Premature Exit
by geniusgirl
Summary: AU. What if Lupin hadn't been able to stop Harry from following Sirius through the veil? what exactly lies behind the veil, and, more importantly, how will Harry ever get back?
1. Chapter 1

**Premature Exit**

_AU. What if Lupin hadn't been able to stop Harry from following Sirius through the veil? What if Harry had drawn back the veil and… My take on the mysterious veil and what lies behind it. _

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did…let's just say I wouldn't be here right now.

Author's note: Hello, I thought I'd mark my return to with a fic. So here I am. This is the first chapter, this is **meant** to be short. The other chapters will be much longer, I assure you. I'd also like to say that this is my way of making things right, and Harry will get to meet his parents in another chapter.

Chapter 1

Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing - Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second…

But Sirius did not reappear.

"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled, "SIRIUS!" He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out…

But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry-"

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"

"-It's too late, Harry."

"We can still reach him!"

Harry wondered why Lupin was being so difficult and refraining him. Furiously, Harry tore himself away and hurried towards the veil. He was almost there now. Lupin was shouting something from behind him but he wasn't listening.

Harry reached for the curtain and drew it back with no hesitation.

He was surprised by what he saw next, it certainly wasn't what he expected. Harry was too shocked to utter a scream as a sudden black tidal wave swallowed him whole… _(A/N: and this was where I thought I'd end the chapter as a cliffie...but then it was less than three hundred words long so I continued.)_

Harry was overcome by a strange tingling sensation as the world went black. Everything had lasted for less than a second but if had felt like more. Harry hurtled into someone and landed firmly on the ground. He opened his eyes, he hadn't been aware he had closed them, and realised immediately he was missing his glasses. Harry could dimly make out a tall man picking himself up off the floor; he handed Harry back his glasses as he stood up straight.

Harry waited for his eyes to adjust to the lighting after he put his glasses on. He fully intended to thank the man and ask where they were. He blinked stupidly and looked up.

"Harry?" asked Sirius, his voice was mingled with fear. Harry felt a certain element of satisfaction, he had found his Godfather, now if the two of them would be able to get back through the veil and into the department of mysteries they would be able to fight. Harry looked around but could not see any trace of a veil. He realised grimly that they had fallen through a trap and would not be able to get back. Then it hit him! The veil must have been some sort of portkey transporting them somewhere else, somewhere safe? Harry wasn't sure.

"Sirius, where- I mean, how…what happened?" Harry spoke speedily, he didn't want any of his friends to suffer while he wasn't there because he had been talking instead of helping.

Sirius' expression was one of horror; his eyes were wide as though he was looking at Harry from another dimension. Harry did not find this particularly soothing, and he intended to voice this, until Sirius caught him off guard.

"Harry," he repeated, "you didn't…you didn't fall through the veil by any chance did you?"

Harry thought this was a stupid question and was not what he wanted to hear.

"What do you mean? I had to follow you after you fell," Harry replied, "Sirius, we've got to get back quickly, I'm not sure what's happening back there."

Sirius shook his head with a somewhat defeated look to it, Harry instantly felt worried, he had never seen Sirius look like this before.

"We can't," Sirius said softly. Harry did not understand.

"What do you mean, 'we can't'?" Harry asked, he was getting angrier now, he didn't want Sirius telling him riddles. He just wanted to be back with everyone else, and to make sure that none of his friends met their fates from his foolishness.

"That veil…" Sirius' voice was cracking now, "Dumbledore has mentioned it before at the order. It's…a teleporter, it transfers people to different planes."

If Harry had not been confused before, he certainly was now. He could not remember ever reading about or hearing about anything like this in class. He didn't know anything about the planes. It would have been much easier just to say that Sirius was telling him lies, but Harry could see he wasn't. Harry looked into his Godfather's stricken face and followed every single word. He did not need to ask what planes were, because Sirius answered him before he could speak. "Planes are… other dimensions, I think this is the metaphysical plane, but I don't know much about them. I knew wizards study them at the department of mysteries, and that the veil is some kind of link between them, but apart from that I am as much in the dark as you are, Harry."

This was a lot of information for Harry to take in.

"So, what you're saying is…we've transported into a different dimension?" Harry asked, he felt strange in the new environment. He was not aware of his breathing, and his senses seemed oddly out of tune. He vaguely knew there was a breeze around them but could not feel it. Sirius bowed his head.

"Yes," he responded, Harry opened his mouth to say something else but Sirius cut him off, "I'm not pretending to be an expert, Harry."

"Where's the veil? Surely we can get back the way we came…" but Sirius' lack of response told Harry all he needed to know.

"The veil isn't in this plane, it cannot transport us back otherwise Wizards would be able to understand it by now," he replied. He was looking at the floor rather than Harry's eyes. Harry noticed that they were not standing on a floor, more a swirly greyish cloudy substance, but it felt solid. This was the kind of thing that would only be published in the Quibbler.

"I don't understand it," Harry said, he felt a little lost. Moments ago, he had been in a battle trying to save his own neck and his friends. Only a few hours before he had believed Sirius was being held hostage, now, he was standing in a dark passageway trying to make sense of the supernatural.

"I don't understand it either," muttered Sirius so that Harry could hear, "I must admit I wasn't paying much attention when Dumbledore mentioned it before…"

They stood there in silence for a moment whilst Harry tried to deal with everything that had been thrown at him. He would dearly love to be able to go to bed and wake up to find that the whole ministry expedition had been nothing more than a very bad dream. Harry doubted he would even be able to sleep in this plane, every second he could feel as though something was not quite right.

Harry remembered something distinctly from before.

"Sirius," he began, wondering how to phrase what he was going to say, "before, before any of this happened I heard voices. Voices coming from behind the veil."

Sirius nodded again and raised his head so that his grey eyes were looking directly at Harry.

"Yes, well, I can't imagine we are alone back here."

Harry suddenly felt physically sick; he was not sure what they were going to do now. How would he be able to get back and save his friends? Or how would he even be able to tell them that he was _sorry_? Where were they really? What was this mysterious plane that Sirius knew so little about?

"We can get back…can't we?" Harry asked quietly. He felt dread fill the whole of his body. He did not want an answer. The words had only just left his mouth and he'd wished he'd never asked.

A look into Sirius' eyes, that still hung on to that tortured expression he had picked up in Azkaban, gave Harry a definite answer.

* * *

Review? Oh, please, it would really make my day. Especially since we had a powercut earlier today and I lost a bit of this fanfiction. Tell me what you think, I'll be delighted to hear. The chapters will be longer than this, but there is really not a lot I could do with this chapter. As I mentioned above, it was going to be a prologue that was too short and metamorphosed into a miniature chapter. 


	2. Chapter 2

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. I think I had a dream about owning it once, though.

A/N: Reviews! I love you people so much, it was so great to sign onto MSN messenger and find I had four reviews, and even better for a few hours later to have two more reviews. I must admit, I was worried if people would like this. I plan to update a lot and have this finished before Half-Blood Prince comes out. **Maya100**, **Lady Padfoot716**, **Serribi, Pure Black **and** Moonfyre **thank you all for reviewing. **Sirius Fan**, I am really grateful you took the time to write me such a great review. Thank you very much. I'll also try and keep the A/Ns out of the story, I must admit I'm not a fan of doing this, but so many people do it I just started. :P Love you guys, here is the next chapter of the story.

Chapter 2

For the second time that night, Sirius had given Harry an answer without saying a word. It took a moment for Harry to digest this, then he gulped, and he prodded his Godfather. He needed to be certain. He needed to know and extinguish any hope that he was misreading Sirius. He needed Sirius to say the words out loud.

"We can't go back, Harry," Sirius replied finally. He looked away and Harry felt his stomach sink, although in this strange new world the feeling was unfamiliar. What were they to do now? He had hardly dared to hope against it but now he knew he couldn't go back he still felt that that one strand of hope had been significant enough. He already missed Ron and Hermione, despite the fact he had been away from his best friends longer than this before. He could not imagine never being able to see them again. Trying to focus on anything other than what he had just been told, Harry asked Sirius something that had been knawing away at him since he had found out.

"Sirius, what do you know about prophecies?" Harry asked, Sirius looked mildly surprised.

"Well, not that much. I never took divination. Why?" Harry surveyed Sirius' face as he said this, looking for any traces of recognition. Looking eagerly to see if Sirius knew anything about the prophecy he, Harry, had thrown and broken. The prophecy that Voldemort had wanted, his only thought of comfort was that now Voldemort would never be able to hear it. This was still hardly comfort, the fact that Voldemort was still living in his own plane whilst he was not sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"It's nothing, just something Malfoy said," Harry replied shortly, as though he was going to change the subject but yet couldn't think of anything to say. Sirius looked at him quizzically.

"What did Lucius say?" he asked. Harry shook his head, he noticed that his scar had not so much as twinged since he had fallen through the veil. That was because Voldemort wasn't here, he told himself.

"What did Lucius say?" Sirius asked again, Harry regretted mentioning it, he did not want any more confusion in his life, and he had now had enough of it to last a lifetime. Harry looked down at the knuckles on his hands and flexed them, he should have known that Sirius would be far too persistent.

"I picked up a prophecy," Harry began, Sirius raised his eyebrows, "it had my name on it!" Harry said defensively but Sirius just nodded him on. "And then, Malfoy, and the other Death Eaters appeared, they wanted me to hand over the prophecy to them. I didn't, of course."

Sirius looked alarmed.

"Harry, I was never told about a prophecy about you," he said. Harry nodded his head.

"The prophecy got smashed anyway…so at least Voldemort never got it," Harry continued. Sirius perked up considerably.

"Did you hear the prophecy?" he asked, Harry shook his head, he was just as curious as Sirius was. "I was never told about a prophecy, I thought they were a load a bull, personally." Harry shook his head. Sirius looked thoughtful.

It was nice to have Sirius around, Harry knew that he would have gone crazy here on his own. He looked down at the misty substance swirling by his feet; everything was so very strange in this dimension. Harry looked up to see that Sirius had an expression on his face that looked like he was thinking hard. He had sounded very serious when asking about the prophecy.

Do you want to…er…have a look around?" Harry asked, startling Sirius out of his daze. He then raised his eyebrows and looked around, Harry caught a glimpse of amusement on his face, but then he was almost certain he had imagined it. They were surrounded by darkness and there was clearly not very much to see.

"Yes," Sirius replied, although he looked troubled to Harry.

"It can't all be like this, can it?" Harry asked, hoping for a better answer.

"I bet it can," Sirius predicted darkly, but he still followed Harry as they moved in a northerly direction. Harry noticed that he could not feel his feet hit the ground as he moved, it was an unnerving feeling, as though he could fall any moment.

The smell was strange too, only they weren't really smells. There was, sort of a feeling, or a general awareness, how the place _should_ smell. It should have smelled slightly musky, although Harry could not smell anything at all. It was odd, without half of his senses he almost felt blind. All the time they walked and apparently moved nowhere Harry continued to think about how the strange everything was.

They had been walking for what Harry guessed must have been a half-hour (although he had a thought that time might be illogical where they were) when he decided to try and speak to Sirius again. He turned back and waited for him to catch up, Sirius looked lost in thought, and looked to be clueing something together in his head. What it was, however, was a mystery to Harry.

Sirius noticed Harry was waiting for him and strode a little faster.

"Harry," he asked anxiously, "what did the prophecy say on it? The one with your name."

It occurred to Harry that this was a very strange question, he had not really thought about the prophecy since telling Sirius. He tried to think back and remember the words printed on the prophecy. They had not seemed important at the time and he had barely so much as glanced at them. Other than his name was there, he was not entirely sure about it.

"There were…initials," Harry said, concentrating very hard, "and my name…it also said the dark lord on it."

It instantly hit Harry that perhaps he should have wondered why there was a prophecy about him and Lord Voldemort, but before he could, Sirius spoke again.

"Initials…well, that would be presumably who said the prophecy and who heard it," Sirius said, tossing the words aside, "but the dark lord…that's just what I assumed." Then he stopped talking when Harry really wanted him to go on.

"What did you assume?" Harry asked, his heart was beating so fast and so loud that Harry felt that if Sirius were to reply he would not be able to hear him.

Sirius looked at Harry straight. He looked very, very grim.

"I know you're young but I also know you're very mature for your age, Harry," Sirius began, Harry nodded him on, willing him to continue, "well, more mature than James and I ever were…" if the joke were to lighten the mood, it failed. "Here's what I am guessing, Voldemort tried to kill you as a baby. Why? Because of some sort of prophecy," He said this slowly, before Harry could take any of this in and ask the inevitable next question, he added, "no, I don't know what the prophecy would have been about. Voldemort may not have done either, because then he probably would have known that the curse would rebound upon him."

Harry felt shocked at what he was hearing; however, the evening had been a waterfall of non-pleasant surprises. He tried to find something to say, but words were failing him, instead he stood there, opening and closing his mouth yet saying nothing.

"I know," Sirius said, seeing Harry's expression. But Harry was hardly listening, was Sirius right? Everything was making sense, and somehow not making sense at all. Questions arose in Harry's mind. Questions that he knew Sirius could not answer. Questions that only one individual could answer.

And he wasn't there.

Albus Dumbledore was not there. The time he really needed him. Harry's first emotion was anger, why was he stuck in this place? Why had Dumbledore opted to leave Hogwarts and save him from being expelled? Why had Dumbledore never told him? Why had he never told him anything, even when he asked?

The next was confusion, one he had quite frankly had enough of. What was this prophecy about? Why had Dumbledore not thought he was ready to understand it when he had asked? But then he asked himself, _was he_, _had he been ready to know back then_? Clearly there was much more to the prophecy. He needed someone to explain. If only he could have heard it. If only he had not been so foolhardy to throw the prophecy to Neville. He should have known Neville would not catch it. Neville was useless…

But Harry knew deep inside that he was wrong. He knew that he was lying to himself to make him feel better. Neville was a brave and gifted boy who had risked everything in the department of mysteries for Harry. Harry knew not to forget that. Although now he would never be able to hear the prophecy at all…

He might have done though, a nasty little voice said in the back of his head, had he not followed Sirius through the veil. Had he been able to survive the events at the department of mysteries, surely Dumbledore, or someone, would have been forced to tell Harry the truth. Lupin had told him not to go, but he had refused to listen. But what was the alternative to what he had done? To not save his Godfather? He had not had very many options after Sirius had not reappeared.

Harry did not regret following Sirius.

"Harry?" asked Sirius, he seemed almost in the background now, he was second to Harry's thoughts and questions.

"Yes," Harry replied, rubbing his forehead. He could not feel his hand on his face, but he still felt a very realistic pain inside that told him he had a headache.

"I know what you're thinking," Harry wanted to question this, how could anyone possibly know what he was thinking? How could anyone possibly imagine the emotions he was feeling? "You're thinking 'what if', I used to think the same way when I was in Azkaban. It doesn't do you any good, Harry."

"I don't care," Harry told him bitterly.

"If you tell me that, I don't believe you," Sirius replied simply. Harry felt annoyed by this, he wanted to kick and scream and rage with the emotional overload. He would have done, even, but there was nothing around them that he could kick, and even if there was, in this stupid plane he didn't have the ability to feel things. This was ridiculous, how could there not be a way to let anger out in this plane?

"You know what's the most irritating 'what if?'" Harry asked Sirius, unable to keep his voice from raising towards the end. Sirius nodded.

"What if you had never gone to the department of mysteries, because then none of this would have happened," if Harry had not been going crazy at the time, he would have marvelled at Sirius' ability to read him and understand him.

"Then none of this would ever have happened," Harry repeated angrily, "and then what? I'd live my life blissfully unaware that there was a prophecy about me…and about Voldemort, because Dumbledore would never have told me!"

"Dumbledore would have told you, there must have been a reason. You're jumping to all the wrong conclusions, we're not even sure about this prophecy yet."

"Jumping to the wrong conclusions? It was YOU who realised what the prophecy must have been about, YOU who announced it, not thinking about how I would feel!"

"Harry, don't you see?" Sirius asked gently, Harry did not need him speaking nicely to him, he wanted more than anything to kick somebody's head in, and Sirius could be that person if he gave Harry a reason. "You've grown up, you wanted to know, if I hadn't said anything then it would only be worse later. And you know it."

Harry was about to say that no he didn't see at all rather hot-headedly. But he was distracted. Something was moving behind him. Something was coming towards them. He could feel it inside of him; he swung around and instinctively reached for his wand.

But when he saw it, he froze.

The wand fell uselessly from his hand and into the swirling grey mist…

* * *

Voila! Was that ridiculous? Were Harry and Sirius out of character? Please tell me if they were, because I'm very conscious about it. I'd love it, of course, if you could review and tell me what you thought. Did you think Harry overreacted? After all, he didn't hear much. Was this chapter a waste of time reading? I'm sorry if it was, but I needed to write it for this story to progress. So what…or who…was behind Harry? You'll have to find out in the next chapter. I want to also clear things up with the prophecy, Sirius is a clever man, and I guessed that he'd be able to figure out what the prophecy would be about. If you want to write me a review about how bad this was, then please remember that I lost my No Doubt CD today so I'm feeling a little low.

**NOTE:** Did Sirius know about the prophecy? But surely, if he did then he would have urged Dumbledore to tell Harry, or even, rather rashly, told Harry himself? If you think he did, remember, in my story he didn't. And my story is, thankfully, alternative universe.


	3. Chapter 3

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I never will.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I'm writing this as I go along so I can't update until I've finished writing the chapter. Unfortunately, this fic has to fight for my time of the day. Admittedly, I have far too much spare time, but I do have a presentation coming this Thursday in English, and also three maths exams that will decide my maths set at school next year. I cannot afford to go down a set, as my parents would probably react in the same way anyone normal's parents would react to their child getting expelled. To them, being thrown out of the top set in maths is the most terrible thing that could ever happen. So I am under a little bit of stress…however! Thank you my loyal reviewers **Serrebi** and **Lady Padfoot716**, it was great to read your thoughts. Thanks **Maria**, too. So now, after much rambling, I give you…the next chapter.

Chapter 3

There was a very solid looking figure of someone he had known standing behind him. Harry's eyes widened and he gawped; the handsome looking boy now before him's expression remained neutral. Harry knew that he couldn't be standing there, he couldn't possibly. Because he was dead.

"Harry Potter," he stated. Harry continued to watch him and not speak, this had to be an illusion. Or he was dreaming…a very bad dream…everything was a very bad dream. He tried to bend his knees to pick up his wands but he was oddly immobile, how strange. "It's all right, Harry, I'm not going to attack you," the boy said, sounding a little amused at Harry's reaction. The corners of his mouth were twitching.

He had only been eighteen when he died. He had not even completed his final year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. This was all because of Harry.

"Cedric?" Harry asked, feeling stupid, because clearly it was Cedric but what wasn't so clear was what he was doing here.

Harry had never wanted to face Cedric again. He still felt responsible for Cedric's death, if he had never insisted the two boys take the triwizard cup together then Cedric would still be alive today. He would probably still be making out with Cho Chang every Hogsmeade weekend at Madam Puddifoots, Cho would not have spent a year doing nothing but crying. He would probably have had a good job by now; he had been destined for a good life.

Harry had taken this away from him.

He could not bring himself to look into Cedric's eyes, so he looked at Cedric's feet instead. There was not much to see, they were within the translucent mist that surrounded the ground. The mist that now seemed to be intoxicating Harry.

There was a swift movement and Cedric's face was looking at him from where his feet should have been. Harry jumped back in surprise, but Cedric was laughing. Harry felt slightly embarrassed; his feelings of anger had been forgotten as quickly as they had come.

"It's Ok, I'm not mad at you," said Cedric, Harry could not find a way to stop looking at him, the body that had stood so solid had disappeared. "Well, I didn't think I was mad, but I must be if I really believe I'm seeing you here. Harry, what are you doing here? And…SIRIUS BLACK!" Cedric's body rose out of the mist and made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. Cedric looked shocked, he didn't seem to realise that Harry knew Sirius was there and he was pointing, beckoning Harry to turn and look.

"That's me," Sirius replied casually, a grin lighting up his face. Cedric, however, did not understand why Sirius was so calm, he looked as if he expected Sirius to reach for his wand and blow him up. Although, this was probably what most people would expect from someone who had been thought a mass murderer.

"I know what you did, Black, it was awful, you killing those muggles! And I know that whatever dark magic you used to get Harry and yourself here-" Cedric was just saying aloud something Sirius had heard many times before.

"Cedric, it's all right," Harry tried to explain, "Sirius didn't really kill all those muggles - he was framed."

Cedric gave Harry a very strange look.

"How could he have been-" Harry was certainly not interested in telling him everything that he had found out two years ago in the shrieking shack, he doubted whether Sirius was either.

"It doesn't matter," Harry cut him off quickly, "Cedric, where are we?"

Cedric raised his eyebrows very, very high and they did not come down. He had his arms folded and was much taller than Harry; it felt to Harry, as though Cedric held some kind of superiority still over him.

"You must be kidding, you don't know? How did you get here if you don't know?" Harry did not like this answer. How would he know where he was? And, how was Cedric, a dead schoolboy, alive in front of him? How did Cedric look as real as he was? This was surely a trick, some trick or illusion, maybe sent by Voldemort.

"Harry wouldn't ask if he didn't know," Sirius answered for him, he had been watching in the background, something Sirius rarely did.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't know how to begin…if I could ask, how did you get here? Then I might be able to clear things up," Cedric asked, he didn't sound mad, just curious.

"Er, we were in the department of mysteries at the ministry, and there was this veil, and I…followed Sirius through it when he fell," said Harry, he waited for Cedric to say how stupid that was, but instead he just looked thoughtful.

"A veil?" he said, not really to anyone but himself, "really? You mean you didn't die?"

"No!" Harry said, raising his voice, he could not have died, could he? But then Cedric was dead, and he was here, so it was the only possible solution.

"Sorry," Cedric muttered, he didn't say anything else.

"Diggory, is it?" Sirius said after a few seconds of silence, "where are we? Is this the spiritual plane?"

Cedric's grey eyes looked past Harry to where Sirius must have been standing. Harry shivered; he got the impression that Cedric could see straight through him. The he shook his head. He cleared his throat, perhaps nervous at giving Sirius an answer.

"This is…I don't know, the place where all the surreal things in life come from," Cedric said, "we don't usually come here, so it's peaceful, I came here to think."

Sirius said, "do you know a way to leave here?" at the same time Harry asked loudly, "who's we?"

Cedric looked extremely confused and unsure of which question to answer.

"Answer Harry's, it's better," Sirius said strangely, Harry could tell he was smiling.

"We? Um, people like me, people unlike me, but people in general all the same…dead people…"

Harry stared. He stared for a long time until he realised how rude it must look so he turned to see what Sirius had thought. Sirius was clearly thinking along the same lines as Harry, did Harry really share the shocked expression on his face?

Cedric had to be lying. It was the only plausible explanation; he was some image Voldemort had found a way to project into this plane and lead Harry into a trap. Though, to get out of this place alive, he needed to spring the trap, and then what? He would suffer by the dark lord the same as his parents…

But what if this crazy world was as real as Cedric stood before him? What if Cedric was telling the truth, and they had stumbled across somewhere they could visit the dead? This opened almost frightening new possibilities. Could Cedric lead Harry too…his parents? The people he'd longed to meet his entire life, but now, thought rather uncomfortable with the whole idea. He was not finished exploring these possibilities when Cedric spoke again.

"Of course," he said softly, so that Harry had to strain his ears to help, "your parents are here, Harry. They made me tell them all about you when I arrived, they were nice people. I haven't got the foggiest idea how you could escape here, but Lily and James might." Harry's heart was pounding faster and faster with every single word. "I can get them, you'll have to stay here though, only spirits can travel freely throughout the planes."

"Are you sure we can't follow?" Sirius asked rather eagerly, he had become much more energetic since his best friend's name had been said.

"No," Cedric answered simply, "I'll go then, shall I?"

"Wait!" Harry cried before Cedric could disappear the way he had come.

"Sorry?" he was confused.

"No, I'm just sorry…about everything." Harry meant it, he was sorry about partaking in the triwizard tournament, he was sorry that because of him the cup had been transformed into a portkey to take him to Voldemort. He was sorry that Cedric had been forced to come with him as the portkey drew them somewhere else. He was sorry that because of him, Cedric had died.

But Cedric was smiling.

"It doesn't matter," he said, then he turned to go but turned back once more, "but thank you for bringing my body back."

Before Harry could say anything else he and Sirius were alone again, the form of Cedric's body had slowly disintegrated. He felt something sweep past him, he felt Cedric's presence until it was no more.

* * *

Sorry for the delay, and I'm sorry I couldn't make this chapter any longer, I didn't want to write too much with Cedric though, because there's only so much that he can explain. I want to say here and now this fic is going to be a lot more talking than action/adventure, so if you're interested, keep reading. I might not be able to update again until midweek, or, at the worst, next Friday when my exams are over. Thanks, and please review to tell me what you thought. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Premature Exit**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: :P Response to **Padfoot's fire**: Mushy? Impossible, I am not that great a writer. I would be unable to write something like that, something to do with being what my friends thoughtfully tell me, er…dead inside. For you, I promise to add a little spice to what I was originally going to write. **Smeg1** thank you for your review as well, it means a lot to me that you don't think everybody is out of character, because I'm trying so hard to get them right. **Shadow of the black abyss**, I have to say what an interesting idea, I'll think about it. And finally, **MachiavellianOrange**, thanks for youre review and pointing out my errors, once I finish writing this I shall probably go back and edit it. ;)  
Thank you all, and without further ado…

Chapter 4

Harry blinked and immediately wondered if everything that had just happened had been his overactive imagination. He knew better though, and besides, if Harry had just imagined it there was no reason for Sirius to be standing with him still staring at the place Cedric had stood moments before. He wasn't sure what to think, and watching the now empty space before him was excuse not to begin.

It didn't last. A rather blank, dark atmosphere could only be entertaining for so long, and now Harry was reliving Cedric's words in his head. He remembered the slow, emotionless words, but they had made Harry feel happy. Warm feelings had arisen inside him and we was not sure why or how. Harry felt nervous, more nervous than he could have possibly imagined he could, but then again, he had never really believed he would get the chance to meet his parents. He had only ever seen them in the photographs he still had in the album Hagrid had given him and once, in Snape's pensieve. He had listened to several of Sirius' recollections his parents, but still, he would be meeting them…Harry didn't even know them. He wondered what he would say when the moment came, if he could manage to choke the words out of his mouth. Would his Mother hug him the same way Mrs Weasley did at the end of the school year? He didn't know. Had they been watching him as a child, watching him walking around as a small boy and getting picked on by Dudley? Had they seen the strange things that happened around then preteen boy and felt angry with his aunt and uncle for not telling him what he was? Did they watch in joy as their son started Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry and manage to defy Lord Voldemort again in his very first year? Harry didn't know the answers to any of those questions, but by the end of the night, felt certain he would.

Still his mind told him that he could be falling into a trap, a trap that he was welcoming with arms. Voldemort had tried to bribe him and lied to him before, surely he could use Cedric to achieve whatever he wanted. But apart from the fact he could vanish into thin air and disappear beneath the cloudy substance at their feet, Cedric had seemed very real. He had seemed like the boy Harry had never known very well but still envied greatly. The noble Hufflepuff seeker who had beaten him at Quidditch once but then tried to restart the game after seeing Harry fall victim to Dementors within the Hogwarts grounds. He had been mad that the girl he'd liked, Cho Chang had been dating Cedric and not he, Harry.

Maybe this trap was one that he wanted to spring, just to see what would happen.

"I don't believe it," Sirius said, Harry swung his head around violently, he had forgotten that his Godfather was there, "I don't bloody believe it." But he was repeating in a way that said he did, his voice was almost awed. Harry realised he was not talking to him, but rather, to himself.

"Sirius, this is weird," Harry said aloud. Sirius stopped what he was doing and looked at Harry, he shook his long hair back and gave his usual bark like laugh.

"This stopped being normal the minute you came through the veil," he replied, he was still laughing and gave Harry the impression he was still a young school kid. The second after Harry had noticed this; Sirius began to dance stupidly, even making Harry smile. "I'm going to see Prongs and Lils again!" He screamed into the oblivion.

Harry grinned at the man's joy but it was a feeling that did not connect to the way Harry felt. There was a sickness in the pit of his stomach, he hadn't got any idea of what he was going to do or say, he almost felt annoyed at Cedric putting him in this position. Harry stared into the emptiness of the world around him, he was getting what he'd always wanted, and maybe, he would get the answers he needed.

He watched Sirius jump around like a crazy man for a moment or two, smiling…he was going to meet his parents. It was as if this was a reward for everything he'd ever done, everything he'd ever achieved. Then he remembered that if he never managed to leave this place he'd have plenty of time to get to know them, would he even want to leave this strange plane where spirits could travel freely and living people such as himself and Sirius were intruders? A plane where he could stay with the people he'd always wanted to meet as a young boy, however, was that still his deepest desire? Did he still want this more than he wanted the wizarding world rid of Voldemort forever? Harry pondered this.

He came to the conclusion that, given the choice, he would want to go back and fight, because whoever was with him in this odd place, it could not mimic the feeling of home. He would only rest if Voldemort were gone, he felt very sure of this.

But what Harry felt sure of now might not be how he felt tomorrow, he had learned that, and was not about to lose it.

Harry felt restless, he was not sure what he could do but did not want to stand waiting for Cedric to return any longer. He wanted to run as fast as he could, not to avoid what was about to unfold - he was no coward, but simply to stretch his legs, to move. He had been standing still for what felt like far too long. He anxiously kicked his leg out for no apparent reason.

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"No reason," Harry muttered quickly, but his words faded towards the end, because he had caught sight of something, silvery particles that were putting themselves together in a complicated order. Harry could already feel them, and he could feel Cedric there too, he was back, just as he said. Harry had never been so amazed in his entire life as he watched the dust turn into the people before him. The people he recognised and yet never met.

His parents were standing in front of him.

It only hit him then how bizarre all of this stuff involving the planes and spirits really was. He perked his eyebrow up and could not get a good enough look at his parents, he wondered if they'd think he was rude but he could not look away.

Lily Potter was quite short; she had wavy dark red hair and large green eyes that sparkled despite everything she had been through. She was stood about a foot ahead of Harry's father, and was wearing an unreadable expression on her face, one that combined surprise with several other emotions, most notably love. Harry watched his mother's face break out into a grin as she rushed forward.

"Harry?" she said, almost squealing she hugged Harry as though frightened that he was going to disappear. Harry felt quite sure that even if he had wanted to leave he would have been unable to go anywhere. She was hugging him with a certain ferocity, a need…love? Harry had not had many of these in his life since he became the boy who lived. He could see his father beaming over Lily's shoulder, he also looked amused.

"Careful Lily," he said, "you're going to suffocate him!"

Harry smiled at the joke and Lily loosened her hold a little, but still seemed reluctant to let go. James Potter stood tall; he was a confident looking man who had messy black hair that looked exactly the same as Harry's. Although Harry had seen him before in photos and the pensieve, Harry could not get over how much this man was an older version of himself.

Photos. He'd never had his own memories, nor something real to hold on to. He promised himself that whatever was to happen now, he would be ready, and he would remember what was unravelling before him forever. However long that forever was.

Because this torn up family photo was complete again.

* * *

That last sentence felt so weird and corny to write, but I loved it, and even if you didn't, I don't care (nevertheless, leave me a review) I guess I went back on my word when I said it wasn't going to be mushy. Sorry, I don't really care, I'm really enjoying writing this, and I really hope you're enjoying reading it, too. I just overused the word 'really', didn't I? I'll try and have the next chapter up by Friday, thanks for reading, please review whatever you thought. 


	5. Chapter 5

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times, I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I would like to thank all my reviewers for their great reviews, and, as so many of you have said things I want to answer, I am giving you individual replies for your reviews. Just scroll down to the end.

Chapter 5

Harry spent the next few days spending time with his family, his parents had been able to rearrange the world around him so that it looked like a reasonably normal place, and they were able to come and go as they wished. It turned out that spirits have the ability to create illusions such as the one that he found himself quite comfortable in, but as James had mentioned darkly, it was their _only_ ability. The world was painted blue and green and was falsely bright, the grass and flowers were beautiful to look at but Harry still had the feeling that he was walking through mist. He had a home, or somewhere that would pass for it, and a bed to sleep in. That first meeting had seemed so very strange, but now so far away. Harry had replayed it in his head so many times over now he was beginning to wonder if the mirror of erised had been behind the veil and he had simply been sucked in. Harry remembered feeling so nervous, and then…nothing. He had not found it hard to talk to his parents and they had not asked him to explain what had happened during his whole turbulent life. Lily had told him that they had heard everything from people who passed through to the spiritual plane, she had told him a lot of the spiritual plane, and from what she had said it sounded a lot better than where he was now. She had smiled and told him about the countless truths and legends of the other dimension, as if making up for not being able to tell him stories as a child. Harry liked her smile, it illuminated her face and made her green eyes light up, she smiled and talked to him and Harry almost forgot where he was. Almost. Harry could never stop thinking about what was happening in what his parents called the material plane, the plane where he was supposed to be. Harry remembered asking her about the planes one time after he had met her, she had been happy to answer.

"There are…many planes, only Merlin would know how many, I expect. There are the two more obvious ones, the material plane, that's where you should be, Harry, and the spiritual plane, that's where wizards spirits go when they leave their bodies," she had said, Harry noticed some emphasis on the words 'you should be'. "Then there are other, less significant planes, this one for instance, remember anything crazy? Something not quite real from your world? Well, it's certain to have come from here," she went on, Harry wondered vaguely if this was where Luna Lovegood had originated from, but then kept listening to what his mother had to say. "There's the emotional plane too, where your emotions come from, you know Dementors? That's where they came from," Lily told him. This sparked an interest in Harry.

"It figures that Dementors aren't from our world," he joked. Lily had beamed at him, even…looked proud? Harry did not know her well enough to read her emotions.

He was still a little surprised at how smoothly his first conversation with his parents had actually gone, to be honest. Sirius had helped lighten the mood and since then had been a great deal happier than Harry had ever seen him before. He had asked so many questions, and, for once in his life, he had actually got answers. Answers full of detail that held back nothing, he had never felt more grateful. But he had not asked the one question he was dying to know the answer to, how could he possibly begin? Was he to simply ask his parents out of the blue why Voldemort had wanted to kill him and why they died? Was he meant to sit down at the polished breakfast table and announce he wanted to hear something about prophecies? Were the two of them even connected? Harry had a strange suspicion that they were.

He had managed to say a lot, and he'd got a lot in return, but they hadn't talked about the night Lily and James had died, the night Harry received his lightening shaped scar. They had talked about usual things, and Harry had noted he felt much more comfortable with these people than he ever had with the Dursleys.

They had wanted to know why Harry was visiting the planes, and both seemed a little shocked to have seen Harry, still very much alive, standing exactly where Cedric told them he was. Harry and Sirius had managed to retell the story of how he had been lured into the department of mysteries and followed Sirius through a veil in which he had fallen into. Lily and James had shared a look then but neither Harry nor Sirius inquired anything. After the crazy, almost unreal explanation they had been able to give, both Harry's parents accepted it. Together, they had managed to create a world similar to that in the material plane, it was just an illusion covering what they had seen before, but an illusion that was as real and as solid as they were.

Harry remembered watching, fascinated, as the space around him began to change. He had looked everywhere for signs that none of this was real, but he found none. The flower patches that Lily had insisted on outside the door were fresh and blooming like a patch of radiant colours. Lily liked exotic flowers. Harry remembered grabbing the door handle, no resistance, it opened easily, and taking a few steps inside. There had been car keys hanging up beside the door, he remembered looking at them curiously and James appearing beside him, shaking his head.

"Lily…she always forgets we don't have a car…" Harry had not known whether to grin or not until his father smirked and he thought it would be all right to allow himself a grin.

Sirius had also seemed impressed by everything; he'd looked around and raised his eyebrows.

"Prongs, I never knew you had a creative side…apart from Harry, here, of course," he had said. James had challenged Sirius to a fight and before he knew it a stag and a large black dog were outside playfighting like little kids. Harry had seen his father transform before then, and he had certainly seen Sirius transform, but everything was very slightly crazy. He had watched in amusement, feeling like the adult in the situation.

Lily had then come out, fiddling with a lock of her hair and jokingly tutting.

"You two set such a great example for Harry," she said sarcastically, then she watched, standing by her son. "I wish you'd told me about Remus, though, I would have loved to be able to transform into an animal."

Harry looked beside him to see her gazing dreamily into oblivion. He was reminded forcefully of his friends back at home, the home that was Hogwarts and not an imitation. He wondered if they were aware what had happened to him, and if they too were wondering about him. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be researching everything, looking for ways to bring him back. He felt almost guilty that he wasn't trying to get back, or even asking about it. Did they already know about the prophecy? Had Dumbledore told them so that they would understand? Who was he to even assume that they had been well and safe, having escaped Voldemort? But Harry knew somewhere that his friends, including Ginny, Neville and Luna had been all right and saved. This eased his guilt only slightly.

It was the third day of living in this real but unreal world that Harry woke up in his strange, yet somewhat amazing bedroom and had strolled downstairs for something to eat. He had been lying awake in his bed almost all night, feeling worried about his friends but also worrying about telling his parents that he needed to leave. He needed to leave, he needed to go back, but did he really _want_ to? Harry tried not to ask himself that question, he was a little afraid of what his answer would be. He also needed to finally ask something, anything, about the prophecy. He had gone through the conversation they would have in his head and each time it had gone dreadfully wrong; he was almost feeling sick but still intended to say _something_. He took a deep breath when he reached the door into the kitchen but then stopped when he heard the voices coming from inside. His parents and Sirius were in there, and he could not help overhearing what they were saying.

"So why wasn't I told about the prophecy?" Sirius asked, trying to sound casual but clearly slightly miffed, "I would never have let that rat scum-"

"Sirius!" said Lily in a scolding voice.

"Lily, he sold us out to Voldemort," James said firmly, "Harry could have…could have died."

"I suppose you're right," Lily replied, sounding thoughtful, "but I could never imagine…I mean, I've thought about it all these years and it's never made sense, Peter could have never…he wasn't that sort of…I don't know."

Harry felt anger in his heart at the sound of Peter Pettigrew's name, because of Wormtail, this world he had been living in had never become reality. This was nice, but it wasn't the same. Harry almost felt mad with his Mother for sounding as if she still couldn't believe what Wormtail had done. When she spoke she sounded so…forgiving. He wanted to spit at the thought, but then they would have known he was there and promptly stopped talking about the prophecy. Wormtail could never, ever be forgiven.

"Back to what I was saying before…" Sirius said impatiently after a few seconds of silence. There was no reply from either of Harry's parents for a moment, and then:

"Yes, Padfoot, but I think Harry wants to listen. You can come out, Harry, we won't bite…admittedly, Padfoot could if he transformed right now…" said James' voice.

Harry instantly realised that spirits were able to see through their own illusions and both his parents had probably been aware of him from when he had starting eavesdropping. Harry felt almost embarrassed as he pushed the door open and came into view.

But all this was soon forgotten. He was about to find out what he had been longing to know since this whole ordeal had began in the department of mysteries. He sat, slightly nervous, slightly afraid of what he was going to hear.

But it surely couldn't be too bad, could it?

* * *

Haha! Harry is wrong! I was really getting into that back there :) I hope you didn't think that chapter was badly thought out, I did do a lot of thinking, I thought about how I could possibly show Harry and his parents' first speech. But then I realised that I didn't need to, if any of you have read fics where Harry meets his parents and they have that long awkward conversation that ultimately climaxes in "we're proud of you, Son," and almost always has "we've been watching you," in it somewhere, you will understand why I didn't. I thought that giving little bits of speech about random things would be enough. I hope you get the idea Harry is starting to bond with his parents, I can't stand those stories when they meet and suddenly everyone is all best friends and act like they have known each other for years. I also hope I pulled off that whole illusionary atmosphere right, I was fully aware that creating them a whole could go drastically wrong. Well, you can tell me if it did go wrong, I always enjoy reading your reviews.

**Reviewers** (People who brighten up my day after I am unable to finish my maths exam and receive the awful results of my physics exam :P)

MachiavellianOrange: Thank you again for another review, I am really glad you liked how I decided to write Harry's emotions.

Shadow of the black abyss: I'm thankful that you liked that last sentence, it's makes a difference when people tell me, you know ;) Thank you.

Moonfyre: Cheers for your review. I feel honoured that you cannot wait for this chapter, it's great to have such fantastic reviewers. I also hope that Lily and James aren't too much of a 'unit' in this chapter (I do understand what you mean, and stories like that bug me too).

Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Thanks for your review, I love your name by the way (Arwen is awesome). As for the people in the material plane, they won't be in this story until Harry gets back, as this story follows Harry in the same way that the books do. I'm thinking about writing a companion fic about Ron and Hermione whilst all this is happening…I'll keep you updated on the situation.

Padfoot's fire: Thanks for reviewing again, I tried to keep the story from getting too mushy, the only things I like mushy are peas (proper fish and chip style, yummy). If I can, I'll try to get a few jokes in, but it all comes down to the fact I am not a funny person. I am told that I am sarcastic funny than actual funny, which is absoloutely great when I want to write comedy. (See? There I go again…)

Oh my gosh. In the time it has taken for me to write out individual replies I have got four new reviews. Crazyness. Absoloute crazyness. Here we go again…

Eric2: Thankfully all those reviews were you, I cannot thank you enough for reviewing. It's great that you're so interested in my fic and I'll try to keep it that way :P

So, after much stalling, I bid you farewell…and please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I go, however, own two bottles of black hair dye :P

A/N: My spellcheck isn't working! I'm so sorry, I hope this is all right, it's all my own spelling so…I'll try and write the next chapter in a separate document and see if the spellchecker will work again. Thank you all my reviewers for that last chapter: **Shadow of the black abyss**, **Eric2**,** Moonfyre **_(no review is ever too long :P)_,** Lady Arwen of Rivendell**, **MachiavellianOrange **_(Great questions, I don't have enough time to answer any right now but I promise I will do in the next chapter xD) _and** Smeg1.**

Chapter 6

Harry took a seat opposite his father and beside his mother, he wondered if sitting this close was a good idea. He knew now that he often reacted badly to any kind of news or information he didn't really want to hear. He had watched the scene when it had just been him and Sirius over and over and he always came to the conclusion that he had gone mad. But he still had not got round to apologising for it.

"Is there something you want to ask, Harry?" Lily asked, her green eyes looking directly at Harry so that Harry was forced to look away. They already knew. They both already knew, and so did Sirius, now. The only way forward would be for Harry to ask, he gulped as he realised he was only seconds from getting a very real and honest answer.

He could not bring himself to say the word Mum, so made his way past this obstacle by not mentioning it and hoping she'd understand.

"Yeah, um," Harry struggled to find the words that hours ago had so quickly rushed through his head, that had been then, and this was now, and he was going to find out. "Before the death eaters came and before the order rescued us, I found this golden thing, it had my name and the dark lord's on it. The death eaters told me it was a prophecy, and said a little bit about it," Harry felt he had just managed a very bad explanation, "and I was…er…wondering if you knew anything, I mean, Dumbledore never told me anything so I imagine it probably wasn't important." He finished lamely and then looked up for replies.

He got strange looks from both his parents and a completely oblivious look from Sirius. He had though Sirius would know by now, but if he didn't…

"Harry," said James in an odd voice, "are you saying Dumbledore never told you…anything?"

Lily tilted her head and observed Harry as he nodded. He wasn't quite sure what to answer, was something huge to be revealed? Had Dumbledore really held something major from him? His parents looked as though they hadn't expected to have to tell Harry everything, James seemed rather burdened.

"I never thought that Dumbledore wouldn't tell you as soon as you started Hogwarts since we weren't there," James said, still with the same odd expression. He looked over at Lily who shot him a look back. Harry's feeling of curiosity about everything intensified. "The reason…the reason Voldemort came after you, and us, was due to a prophecy whilst Lily was still pregnant."

Harry waited for him to continue, he'd heard this from Sirius. James cleared his throat and continued.

"A woman, I think she was applying for the divination job-" Harry thought of Trelawney and smirked, "prophesized about a boy…Dumbledore told us, it was so long ago, can you remember it, Lils?"

Lily nodded, she'd been biting her lip through what seemed like most of the talk. She shook her long red hair back in an attempt to stay cool.

"He said that a wizard boy, born around the time you were due, born to parents who had defied the dark lord three times would have the power to destroy Voldemort." She paused and started again, "At this point, Albus mentioned that someone, a death eater I'd presume, had been listening and was thrown out at this point. This woman continued to say that the boy would have power the dark lord knows not and that he would mark the boy as an equal. I remember it clearly," Lily said, she seemed like she'd had an awful amount of time to think about what she was going to say. Harry felt bad about it, she looked like she might be close to tears. Harry turned away, he wouldn't know what to say in a situation like that.

He focused instead on what he had heard. The prophecy had been about him, and said that it was he who would be able to defeat Voldemort. But how could that be? Harry was beginning to doubt if he'd ever manage to get out of this plane he was starting to subconciously rather like. He thought about his mothers words, what was she implying by everything? That he had been born to destroy Voldemort and by falling through here he had failed, that the whole wizarding world was doomed because he had wanted to follow his Godfather?

"Harry, there's more. D'you want me to continue, Lily?" James asked, Harry looked up expecting to see his mother with tears streaking down her face. She wasn't crying, instead she looked oddly calm, as though she could control all her emotions. Harry thought bitterly that he needed to learn to do that. Lily nodded, she was gazing at Harry with a look that seemed to be wondering why any of this had ever happened.

James fiddled with his glasses for a moment, then:

"Albus told us that either Voldemort or the boy would die at the hand of the other, and that neither could live whilst the other survived," he said. Harry didn't know how to react, he stayed silent, trying to make sense out of everything. "Still, Voldemort only heard the first half of the prophecy, he didn't realise that by killing you anything could happen to him. But he was wrong."

"He's back now, though, isn't he? I couldn't do anything about it," Harry said quietly. He felt strangely empty, it was a feeling he had not felt for such a long time.

"He was always going to come back," Sirius said from next to James. Harry had hardly acknowledged his existance in the last few moments.

"The Longbottoms were there too, weren't they? When Dumbledore told us…" Lily said to James who nodded in reply.

"What about Neville?" asked Harry immediately.

"The prophecy wasn't neccesarily about you," James began, "it could have been about Neville Longbottom. I think he was born the day before you -right?" he asked Lily who impatiently nodded, "we knew Frank and Alice from the Order, they had also escaped Voldemort three times."

Harry wasn't sure what to think about this. He had seen Frank and Alice Longbottom at St Mungos, they had become insane after Death Eaters had used the cruciatus curse on them repeatedly. Even in the wizarding world, there was no cure for that one. Harry knew Neville didn't like to talk about any of this. So what would have happened if-?

"We never really thought it would be you," James croaked, he cleared his throat and started again, "Frank and Alice and their son were purebloods, after all…"

Harry didn't know whether or not to nod along meaninglessly. So Sirius had guessed rightly, there was a prophecy, and it was about Harry. It could have been about Neville, but that didn't matter, because it had been about Harry. He was prophesized to either kill or be killed - there was no other option. But he was here now, so could the prophecy even be fulfilled?

He didn't want to think about it, so instead he thought about the significance of Neville. What if Voldemort had got it wrong and it was Neville who was destined to destroy him? That was plausible, wasn't it? What if Harry was not the chosen one after all? It had to be worth asking about.

"What if…what if Voldemort got it wrong? What if it was supposed to be Neville?" Harry asked. A wave of pain washed across James' face, for a moment it looked like he could not find words, and then he spoke.

"By coming after us, Voldemort defined that part of the prophecy," he said. Everything was still.

"I don't understand," Harry said finally. But he didn't really want to understand. He didn't want to blot out that dot of hope that he might not be the one the prophecy was referring to at all. But what kind of hope was that anyway? Hope that it would be his friend who had to face all of this? What kind of a person was he to wish this on somebody else? After all that Neville had been through… Harry was beginning to feel a bit mad at himself.

"When Voldemort came after us, it became clear that the prophecy could only be about you."

Harry looked at the floor. He felt somewhat unpleasant inside, as though all the curiosity inside of him had been sucked out and he was still feeling the after effects. Harry put a hand to his forehead and rubbed it.

"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Lily, looking concerned, "do you have a headache? Do you want to lie down?"

Harry looked at her. Here it was, a ready made excuse not to communicate with any of them. He nodded slowly and got up and left. Everything had been going so amazingly well, he had been rather enjoying his time here, but now he knew. Now he knew why his parents had been killed in the first place, and why he'd been attacked as well. Harry walked slowly up the stairs and reached the second floor. He liked this place, there were so many stairs so he could concentrate on climbing up, he didn't have to think about anything else…he counted the stairs as he went up. Finally, they ceased and Harry opened a white door, he walked into the room and closed it behind him. He did all this very slowly, if he could keep his mind busy then he would not have to think.

He tidied his room but it had been hardly messy to begin with, he straightened out his bed covers and placed his wand on the bedside table. But what was going to come was inevitable, when he could not occupy his mind any further he flopped down on top of his bed and lay very, very still.

So this was what his life was about, was always going to be about, and nothing else he ever did was going to matter. In the long run, he was either going to die at Voldemort's hand or destroy Voldemort and be forced to live the rest of his life as a reluctant hero. Now Harry knew he could not help but wish he didn't, and that he could go back to living so blissfully unaware. But he couldn't.

At least now he knew the truth, and he could take some level of satisfaction from that. Harry lay on his bed and knew the next few hours of his life would be the hardest and longest yet.

* * *

I'm so sorry with the delay on this chapter. I planned to have it up yesterday but it wasn't even started then and now my story is a day behind schedule (this is a bad thing, incase you're wondering why, because I might not get to finish it if the whole thing isn't written by next Saturday.) I am trying to juggle this fanfiction with school, an obsessive amount of homework, packing for holidays, shopping for holidays and putting up with my lovely but rather tiring cousin who came over to stay today. I don't know if I can update tomorrow because I have rehearsals for this musical that I am in at the local city theatre, but I'll try and have another chapter up by Tuesday at the latest. Thank you everybody for your reviews, you really make my day :P 


	7. Chapter 7

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I am just a spoiled rich kid with too many toys.

A/N: Thank you reviewers **Shadow of the black abyss** (how very right you were when reviewing chapter five, I had to prevent myself from answering you properly last chapter) **Lady Arwen of Rivendell**, **Moonfyre** and **Eric2**.

Chapter 7

Harry lay on his bed gazing up at the ceiling, his room was decorated with Quidditch players who flew around playing a match that restarted every time the seeker caught the snitch. He watched as a beater from a team dressed in green (Slytherin, perhaps?) drew his bat back to hit a bludger straight at the opposing team's chaser, who was heading for goal. The bludger hit the chaser on the back and there was a sickening crunch, Harry winced slightly. Lily had tried to stop James from decorating Harry's room in this way due to the fact it was distracting and noisy, but Harry had stepped in and said he liked it, causing his father to grin stupidly and his mother to give in. The chaser, a girl wearing the dark red of the other team, screamed loudly for a split second before falling motionless to the ground. Harry watched her be lifted magically off the ground by officials and out of sight. Her teammates were looking a little angry, the red team's seeker committed a sure foul by coming up behind the beater who had hit the bludger and hitting him the face. It was almost amusing and had a certain comedic value to it.

There was a knock on his door. Harry cursed silently; he had almost managed to get away from everything back then. He had nearly forgotten about the prophecy, it's contents, the wizarding world and home. Home as in Hogwarts, because whatever the circumstances he still felt like Hogwarts was his home. No matter who lived in the strange but not quite right world around him.

Now everything rushed back to him, the crowd was cheering on his wallpaper…the green team had scored a goal.

"Harry?" asked a quiet voice from behind his door he noticed immediately as Lily's. She sounded sad, the enthusiasm she had held in her voice previously was not there. Harry perked his head up and then sat upright, he felt a bit hot although he was certain that the temperature around him was normal.

"Come in," he said. The door opened slowly and in came Lily, her hair was hanging a little limp and her eyes had lost their sparkle, but she wasn't crying, neither did she look like she had been. She seemed very, very shaken. She had her wand in the hand she was not using to hold the door and levitated a tray onto Harry's table. It dropped somewhat suddenly as the people in the wallpaper started crying in outrage. Someone had committed a foul that the referee had not seen. Lily looked around in surprise before calming down.

"Damn James and his silly ideas," she said to herself, the she turned to Harry and looked a little awkward, "I was just wondering if you were hungry, Harry, and then I realised you said you had a headache and felt absolutely awful that you hadn't got a drink or anything. Does it hurt badly?"

Harry shook his head but Lily did not seemed satisfied with that answer.

"I can reverse this if you want," she said, gesturing towards the walls, the audience were clapping wildly as the red team's seeker had caught the snitch, "I can hear it from downstairs, James told me not to worry, but I do."

She used her hands to brush her hair away from her face and looked ever so slightly uncomfortable.

"It's ok," Harry replied, a new game had was about to start although not all of the crowd had taken seats, it was much quieter.

"If you're sure," she said, then she looked around in distaste, "I'll at least tone it down a little bit, I can't hear myself think." So she did so, and with that she said goodbye and left, closing the door very slowly behind her. Harry felt a bit mad, that was what he was counting on; he didn't _want_ to hear himself think. He didn't want to think. The game being played now had so far been a very solemn affair, the players moved slowly and nobody even tried to break the rules, the crowds were silent…maybe they had fallen asleep. Now he had no choice.

But what came to him was something quite different to what he'd expected. He was not thinking about the prophecy, or Voldemort, or even his parents. Harry realised he was intent on getting back.

It was strange, now he knew everything and knew that he was much safer where he was, he wanted to go back to the wizarding world. Without him, all hope was lost. What was everyone doing in his absence? Were the ministry still so obliviously ignoring his return, or had Voldemort stopped being so secretive now Harry was gone and declared full on war? If the latter, how many people he knew had already perished? And what were his friends doing? Had they given up on him as soon as he had almost began to stop wanting to go back? Now Harry knew his place, he needed to go back. He needed to return, somehow, even if noone had ever managed it before. He was barely thinking about the burden would lay upon his shoulders, only that he needed to get back to it to be laid.

The simple matter was that without Harry Potter the whole world would become extinct. Whatever Voldemort said, there was still the fact that there were not enough pure bloods and magic would slowly but surely die out. The muggles would all be gone, and then the muggleborns, half bloods and then the purebloods who stood amongst the dead. Harry could not, would not, allow this to happen.

Almost as soon as this came to mind, there was another knock at his door followed by the opening of it. It was James. Harry blinked in surprise; he had expected it to be Sirius with this type of arrival. He looked to the food on the side that was still untouched and then back to his father. James summoned a chair and sat down on it, there was a shriek from down below them that suggested that Lily had been sitting on it before.

"Lily said you felt ill," he said, "but I thought it would be something else. See, you don't get ill in this plane, neither do you eat or feel or even smell. It's weird." He paused, then said, "is this about what we told you?"

Harry felt surprised, his father did not waste time, it seemed like such a difference to people lingering on about something else and never really getting to the point they wanted to make. Harry was about to nod to save further complications, but then stopped himself. He wondered briefly if his father would know if he were lying, was he an occlumens? Harry had never asked.

"No," Harry replied truthfully. James waited and Harry wondered to himself whether he should bother trying to explain himself. He didn't want to try and say that although he had been enjoying himself, he knew he should leave. Or perhaps James already knew, and this would be much easier.

"You want to ask about getting home without upsetting Lily or me?" he asked very seriously. Harry was a bit taken aback; he had not expected that.

"Are you an occlumens?" he blurted out. James flashed a grin and looked like he might have laughed.

"Hell no," he said, "I thought it would be only logical that you want to speak about it and that, with Lily here, it would be hard."

Harry stared at him for a moment and them felt himself smile, something he had not done for what seemed like an eternity now. He suddenly felt like he could say what he'd been longing to say and hear an answer he may or may not have been expecting. He had told himself not to get his hopes too high, but neither to drop them completely.

"So, could Sirius and I ever get back?" he asked, he could not stop himself from sounding hopeful.

"Well," James replied, "it's never been done before. Occasionally when someone falls into here they make their way to the spirit realm where they effectively die. But I suppose it's possible providing you have not entered the spiritual plane."

He sounded so casual that Harry was sure he was going to announce some way that Harry could get back. He wasn't getting one, though, James was evidently thinking very hard. Harry hoped that his father could not hear his heart pumping ever so fast, was he feeling excited? Excited at what? Excited at leaving the people he'd wanted to meet for so long and going back to a life which ultimately could result in his death or Voldemort's? Harry suddenly felt a little low again; this wasn't a situation that he could win either way. He heard his father mutter a word and looked at him eagerly, his second long sadness forgotten.

"Merlin," James muttered, he had his head in his hands so that it was impossible to read his facial expression. His voice was also a little muffled so that Harry was not sure he had heard correctly.

"Sorry?" Harry asked, trying to sound calm. He didn't feel calm though; he felt just the slightest bit crazy. He was not sure whether it was being able to get back or just the whole strangeness of where he was finally starting to have a permanent effect on him.

James looked up with an interesting lopsided grin on his face.

"Merlin," he repeated.

Harry stared at him, he had heard for definite that time. He was very surprised, he had learned about Merlin in History of Magic (he had even found it slightly interesting) and knew that Hermione had several books that mentioned Merlin in some way. He had been a very powerful and all knowing wizard from a long time ago, maybe even a bit like Albus Dumbledore, even muggles knew of Merlin. Harry remembered vaguely one time when he had been forced to wait for Dudley to have an injection at the doctor's surgery for a holiday that Harry had not come on, that he had found a book on Merlin in the waiting room. Harry had been very young but not a bad reader, he had read a few chapters before Aunt Petunia had noticed it and confiscated the book.

"I don't know how it could be done," James warned, but his voice also held traces of whatever it was making Harry feel so happy, "but I know that if there is a way, Merlin would know about it."

Harry and James exchanged rather stupid looking grins. So Harry would be going home, it was like the feeling that had been a small slice of hope had expanded and was now making him almost giddy. He was going to see his friends, and now that everything had happened, maybe he would be ready. Maybe…just maybe…

But that word had been hopefully only a few minutes ago. Maybe Harry's life wasn't exactly looking up, but it was ever so slightly better. That would suffice, for now.

* * *

Yay! I finished the chapter on time; I was worrying that I wouldn't. I worked hard on this throughout a very bad headache-turned-migraine simply because I love writing, but I would love it even more if you were to review. Aaaah time, I have too little of it. I'm really sorry, my Dad is yelling at me to get off the computer so I'll have to answer questions and reviews another time. Sorry. 


	8. Chapter 8

Premature Exit

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I have noticed that over the past few days that I have developed an absurd need to get my calculator out whilst reading a fanfiction and divide the number of reviews they have received by the amount of chapters and work out their average amount of reviews per chapter. There was no reason to tell you that, but I did, so there :P I have about a day and any spare time I can find to finish this, so it would be nice if you could inspire me to write with a review ;) I would also like to thank **Shadow of the black abyss** and **MachiavellianOrange** for their reviews on the last chapter.

Chapter 8 

Only a few seconds had passed since James had suggested the possibility of Merlin knowing a way out of the plane he was currently residing in. In all truth, Harry was not sure how to separate the fact and the fiction when it came down to this wizard, but he had never been more interested in knowing. All sorts of possibilities flashed through his head, some slightly insane whilst other more realistic.

"Harry, I can't promise anything," James voice sounded a little distant, it did not matter. He was sure that now he would definitely get home in some way, some how, because if he hadn't believed that anything was possible before, he certainly did now.

"Tell me about Merlin," Harry said interestedly, he was rather intrigued. He couldn't remember much from history of magic, just that he had stayed awake during it, which had to mean something. If he tried to hard to look back into his memory he could remember playing noughts and crosses with Ron whilst Hermione took notes and tutted loudly in the background. He wasn't sure what had actually been said, though.

James looked as he had not been expecting this, and seemed a little uncomfortable. He adjusted his glasses before speaking.

"I don't actually know that much…" he looked as if he was thinking hard for a moment, "I believe when we were covering Merlin in history of magic Sirius and I were plotting a rather gruesome revenge on Severus Snape. Lily caught us and the plan never got carried out, much to our dismay."

Harry wanted him to continue on, surely James knew a lot more than what he had just said otherwise he would not have come to the conclusion that Merlin would be able to help them. James noticed this.

"We've heard a lot about him since we've been, er, here though," he said hurriedly, "but I expect Lily would do more. She took divination, what a waste of time that was, and he was a seer, you know."

Harry raised his eyebrows and his expectations of this legendary figure were momentarily lowered. Then he remembered the prophecy and the sad truth that seeing the future was very real providing you weren't someone like Trelawney. He was also a little surprised at his mother; maybe she had just made the same mistake he had by taking the damned class in the first place. James nodded at the look on Harry's face.

"That's what I thought," he said, grinning. "I think Sirius is chasing birds in the garden, so we could go and ask her now, if you'd like," then he jumped up from his chair as though he had just noticed that it was covered in Snape's hair grease. "I daresay she's a little bit miffed about me taking this chair, though," he said, patting it. Harry remembered the shriek he'd heard downstairs as James had summoned the chair and smiled.

"Sirius is chasing birds?" Harry asked, thinking over what his father had just told him. James shrugged in a gesture that said 'no idea'.

"He's always thought it was fun since the first time he transformed," he said, "none of the rest of us could quite figure out why."

Harry realised that by 'us' James was referring to the rest of the marauders, Lupin, Pettigrew and himself. He felt a strange pang of anger at the thought of Wormtail's name. He didn't deserve to be spoken of by anyone. If it weren't for Wormtail, who knew how different his life would be? Maybe he'd have a home like this in the material plane, maybe, in fact, probably; they'd have a spare room for Sirius and a garden where the black dog could proudly chase away any real birds. Harry knew there was no point in wondering, he was already lucky enough to have got so close to this.

Harry walked downstairs with his father after a long and somewhat comforting talk. Indeed, he could here a dog barking happily and the sound of so many birds songs getting stopped and the rushing sound of wings. Unlike in the real world, however, these fake birds were part of an illusion and could not escape, therefore they just bounced helplessly back as they flew to the air and were forced to take refuge in the higher branches of the trees. Sirius the dog sounded very happy about this, and there was a sound of claws scraping a tree trunk.

His mother was sitting at the table with her nose in what looked like a very long and extremely tedious book. Harry could tell this simply by the front cover '_Gardening charms to truly entrance_ by _Jeanette J. Lovell_.' She looked up at the sound of footsteps, and reluctantly put the book down as she saw them.

"Harry," she said, "are you feeling better?" Harry nodded his head, but found he could not smile. How very strange. She gazed at him with thoughtful looking eyes before she turned to her husband.

"Lily? Harry was wondering about how he could get home," James began, he pulled out another chair to sit next to her and Harry felt oddly like a spectator. Lily bit her lip and looked directly at James.

"Oh," she mumbled.

"And I was thinking that-" he continued before being cut off by Lily, whom must have realised what he was about to say.

"-that Merlin would be able to help us," she said, fiddling with a lock of red hair.

She seemed very falsely bright about everything as she discussed it with James and Harry. Since being in this realm Harry had grown accustomed to the way nothing was real, but his parents had always been honest and true to themselves. Although Harry had only known his mother a few days, it was a startling change of character. He could tell that inside she was missing him already. Maybe she had been expecting this, therefore coming to the same conclusion as James had. Maybe she was still cursing the day Wormtail betrayed them and her baby boy had been ripped away from her. He didn't know. Looking at her point of view, Harry did feel sorry for her, and almost guilty. In an ideal world, he would be able to find a way to merge the two planes together and still be with his parents, but that would not happen. It was more of a dream. A wish.

However, she did know a lot about the powerful wizard and seer, Merlin. Partly from divination and history of magic, and partly, she confirmed, from the very many stories she'd read as a little girl living in a world oblivious to magic. She suggested maybe getting Harry a book to read about him, although this may have been an attempt at a joke. Harry knew now that if they were to help him out of here, his parents would have to return to the spiritual plane, in doing that, all of their lovely illusion work in this plane would be erased. There was no actual guarantee they'd be able to find him soon, or even convince him to aid their situation, because even in death he was a very busy man. James had explained that their were billions upon billions of dead wizards (although Harry could have guessed this himself) and finding one person in particular would certainly be hard. Especially when they could never be certain what plane he would be residing in. Harry had been warned that his parents might be gone for a very long time, but they both promised to come back.

Sirius was less than pleased, not that they were going or even because the bird illusions would disappear, but mainly because he 'never got told anything.' He dropped this childish reason after realising how ridiculous it sounded and wished Harry's parents the best of luck.

"You better be quick, Prongs, I might have to resort to eating my godson if I get too hungry." Harry was very glad that neither of them could feel hunger, because he hadn't been entirely sure if Sirius was joking- he had been half dog at the time and his voice was rather gruff.

Overall, Harry was surprised at how they handled everything. Both Lily and James knew and appreciated that Harry was old enough to know what he wanted and make his own decisions. Harry felt a little bad at having them chase around looking for a wizard while he was sitting in cloudy mist basically doing nothing. Lily had insisted that neither Harry nor Sirius were to attempt to follow them, because if a living mortal were to enter the spiritual plane they would effectively die. Then anything they did would be in vain, because there was no way to bring the dead back to life. Harry was sure he heard an element of sadness in her voice when she said this.

He was not sure how he was feeling now. The initial excitement was gone, now he was more worried and slightly angry at being forced to make an inevitable decision. Now there was a sort of hollowness to everything, when Lily very politely told him to go to bed and get some form of sleep because he'd feel better, Harry obliged, but didn't feel as if he was connecting to her at all as he had before. Harry knew he wouldn't feel better -he never felt any different, but he wanted to keep her happy. After all, she'd been through a lot.

He was lying in bed awake now, in fact, but he could hear voices downstairs, what they were saying were muffled, perhaps it was Sirius' snoring in the next room. Nevertheless, Harry could not tell what they were saying, he suddenly felt very curious. He didn't know what his parents would be talking about at this time of night (well, an illusion of night) to be honest, as hard as he'd tried, he still did not know them as well as he'd like. Now he was sure that he never would, and he'd have to accept that.

Still, when they did not stop curiosity took its toll. Harry decided to be pretending to get a glass of water and he tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to wake Sirius up. It occurred to him that he had his wand and if he really wanted to he could probably summon it, after all the ministry could not warn against it where he was, but he hoped his parents would think he was tired and forgot.

He could hear a woman's voice. Lily's. She sounded desperately upset, and a man's voice, James, comforting her.

"And all I'm thinking about is myself," she cried, "when I should be thinking about my son, I thinking about how hard it will be to let him go a second time."

"Shhh. You'll wake him up, you're not being selfish…it's hard, I know-"

"But we've never been there for him before and-"

"Which is why it's important we are now."

A silence.

"Do you remember when we first heard about the prophecy?" Lily asked, so quietly Harry had to strain his ears on the stair.

"Yes…yes, I do," James replied slowly, clearly wondering where this was going.

"You remember…" she choked, "we promised we'd never let Voldemort get our son before he was able to defend himself, we promised we'd always be there for him, no matter what, we promised…we promised Harry, James - and we broke that promise!"

Another silence.

"Harry, you can come in," said James' voice after a few minutes, there was a quiet gasp from Lily. Harry cursed himself, how stupid had he been to forget yet again that his parents were able to see through their illusions? How would they feel about Harry listening in on such a private moment, he had wanted to go back upstairs before this, but found his legs could not move. They did now, though.

Harry felt mad at himself being so nosy as he walked through into the living room where he had heard his parents talking. He saw Lily, a face he had already put together with brave and strong, with tears streaking down her face. Even talking about the prophecy, Lily had always refrained from crying whenever Harry had been there. She rushed towards Harry and gave him a hug that was so strong an onlooker might have thought she was trying to strangle him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "this wasn't supposed to happen."

"We're sorry for everything," James said.

Harry did not understand what they had to be sorry for. They had done nothing that they should feel sorry. Everything, everything was down to Voldemort, and if either of them thought he blamed them they were wrong. Everything that had happened they had not been in a position to prevent. Lily let go of Harry, no longer crying, but her eyes puffy and red.

"Mum, Dad," he wasn't even aware that he was planning on saying that for the first time until the words had come out of his mouth, "you haven't got anything to be sorry for."

* * *

Mushy? I got to the end of that forgetting about my no-mushy rule, so I thought, oh well. In fact, in order for my story to work, it had to happen, so I'm sorry for all you mush-haters out there (I personally love it!) If I'm correct, I believe this is the longest chapter so far - go me! Although I know it's not really that long, I am incapable of writing long chapters, especially when I have a time limit to get a story finished. I hope you liked it, anyways, and please, please leave me a review, even if you didn't. It means so much to me.

**MachiavellianOrange**: Firstly, I thank you for your great reviews, and secondly, I answer questions :P 1) I must say, it's interesting that you ask about the…er…lavatory situation. Harry and Sirius do not need to eat, and therefore that problem does not arise - however, if it were to, you must remember that the illusions are very, very realistic. Everything functions like an actual home. 2) Harry and Sirius aren't in the spiritual plane, they would have to die to get there (sorry if I made that unclear) instead, they are in another plane. But what you are saying is right; they are there in soul and body and must keep their bodies in good order, which brings us to… 3)Your theories are right, very well done, I have other ideas as well as that one though (I'm not entirely sure how this ends, so you'll have to stick with me) 4) Or actually, this was asked before three but three was kind of mixed with two. Lily and James can't get back to the world of the living simply because they are already dead and their souls and bodies have parted, meaning they cannot get back. I would actually hate to see them back as well, that's been done far too much. (Although, maybe my story has been done too much as well, but I can't remember coming across anyone with the same idea…)

Thanks for keeping me on my toes, anyway. It's great when reviewers ask question that I can answer, I feel like JK :P


	9. Chapter 9

**Premature Exit**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** Thanks, reviewers **Shadow of the black abyss**, **MachiavellianOrange**, **Marikili68 **and** Amrawo**. Wow, chapter nine, I can't believe I've actually got here…wow.

Chapter 9

Harry's parents left the following morning. He hugged each of them in turn and then watched as they slowly disappeared into the dark surroundings. The light, along with the fabulously unreal world that they had created vanished as they did, and Harry was left with Sirius in the strangest plane imaginable. He had been beginning to forget about the plane before he had met his parents, he had, at least, forgotten how dark it was; now all he could do was squint into the darkness. He remembered the oddly unpleasant clouds swirling around his feet and wondered why he had never found the time to ask his parents about it. But he had never really found the time to say any of the things he had wondered over the years as an orphan; he only remembered them now. Harry bit his lip, knowing that when they returned anything he wanted to say would be temporarily blown out of his head and would probably only return when he was in a place where they could never be answered.

He had never asked, for instance, about what he clearly remembered in Snape's pensieve. The one time Snape had made Harry feel remotely sorry for him. Harry had not been able to ask these things, but it still seemed all he'd done over the past few days was ask questions. Surely even his parents must have been getting tired of him.

He sat down, the only sounds were Sirius' and his own breathing, it felt strange to put his hand in the misty substance by his feet. Sort of…he couldn't describe it. Now there was nothing more he could do, gradually he began to think back on his life since he entered the veil.

It had definitely been weird. Sometimes everything had seemed so real and other times less than. Cedric had been just as Harry remembered him; he could clearly see Cedric waving goodbye before he returned back to the spiritual plane, where he said he had family. And then Harry remembered Cho, living a tiresomely sad life that Harry could never hope to understand so deeply. Harry remembered Cedric's words as he bidded him farewell.

"Harry, could you do me a favour if you ever get back?" he'd asked. Still feeling guilty about the loss of Cedric's life, Harry had agreed without hearing it. "Could you…could you tell Cho Chang that I love her and ask her, for me, to move on with her life?"

Now Harry dreaded the moment he would have to speak to Cho. He had an image in his head about what saying this might do to her -possibly, she would thank Harry for everything and maybe leave school and never come back. More likely she would burst into tears and use Harry's shoulder like it was made from tissues for a half-hour before Harry managed to get away. Harry wondered if Cedric could watch Cho from the spiritual plane, he had known that his parents had been unable to watch him so he guessed that this was unlikely. Still Harry asked.

"Can you see Cho, or something?" he had said, immediately feeling embarrassed, because if Cedric had then he would have also seen that kiss under the mistletoe the Christmas before. Cedric replied with a grave smile and shook his head.

"But I know Cho," he'd replied, and then he'd said goodbye and left, leaving Harry to think to herself at least someone could understand that girl.

Once Cedric had left Harry had his first conversation with his parents, it had flowed kind of naturally, and Harry was glad that his parents were very easy going people and fun to be around. Sirius had helped lighten the tension on that first conversation, but it had gone very well. He remembered watching in fascination as his parents used their own magic to create the world he had found himself living so comfortably in. He remembered clearly all the conversations they had before everything had gone, he knew the conversation about the prophecy off by heart due to thinking about it far too often. And he remembered feeling like he'd never get out, and the excitement that came with finding out there could be a chance. The immediate drop of happiness when he realised what this would mean, the previous night with his mother and father…Lily's face with tears streaking down it…the word 'sorry', he had heard that word too much from people he had not needed to hear it from. But all of that had disappeared before his eyes, and Harry could not help questioning himself if any of it…any of the bizarre happenings that involved him meeting his parents so prematurely…had really happened. Now they were gone, Harry could not help it. He hoped they would return soon to help Sirius and him out of this plane they were in.

"Er…Sirius?" Harry asked quietly, Sirius' silhouette moved slightly as if startled, "when do you think they'll come back?"

Sirius seemed to shrug and then think this was not a suitable answer because he spoke as well.

"I don't know any more than you do, Harry, possibly less…" he said. Harry didn't know if he should say anymore. He was now faced with the agonisingly long wait until his parents returned. There was no evidence pointing to them even arriving today, or what Harry figured would be today, he had not had a watch since his fourth year at Hogwarts but had the strangest suspicion it wouldn't work in this plane anyway. Harry sighed audibly and sank down so that he was sitting in the mist. He had not experienced this before and it felt very unnatural, he hoped very much that he would have a reason to move soon.

Harry took to counting his fingers repeatedly for Merlin only knows how many hours. He had noticed that he had a papercut on one of his fingers and no recollection of how it had happened. Sirius had suggested half-heartedly that Harry charm his hands so this game could be slightly more interesting once. Harry ignored him - although he had to admit counting his fingers was very predictable, he felt he might as well had been reciting his ten times table. He was on his one thousandth, nine hundredth and thirty-seven when he finished counting and realised he must have gone wrong. He vaguely wondered when and how he could possibly mess up counting. He began to start again from one thousand nine hundred when he was distracted by a sudden light energy swirling, almost playfully, around him. He might have laughed but he had temporarily lost that ability due to the less than exciting past hours.

The lighted energies Harry knew were people; he realised quickly that there was only two and his parents had probably not managed to achieve what they'd hoped. They both grew larger until they gained the form of the two people who had left what now seemed so long ago. Luckily, it was like their bodies lit up the darkness and Harry was finally able to see properly again. Lily stumbled when her feet hit the ground (or the mist, to be more precise.) She angrily tucked a lock of red hair behind her ears.

"Damn," she muttered, "every time."

Harry looked at them both trying not to look to expectant and hopeful. He already knew Merlin was not with them so they'd obviously been unsuccessful, but why had they returned?

"Whats up, Prongs?" Sirius had asked interestedly. Clearly he had guessed too that they were not back with good news.

"We found Merlin," James said, he sounded rather tired, an aspect of his voice Harry had never heard before.

"-And we pleaded with him, you see, he doesn't believe that you should be returned to the material plane because otherwise every spirit would want to do it," Lily said, now over her momentary anger at stumbling slightly.

"But he knows a way for us to leave?" asked Harry hopefully, trying to make something good out of everything he was hearing.

"I bet he does," said James looking triumphant. Lily tutted.

"James! You can't go giving them false hope! But we did speak to Merlin and he did say he'd analyse the situation before seeing us, I believe the ball is in our court due to the prophecy and everything," she said.

"Ball is in our court?" Sirius spluttered, looking highly curious.

"Muggle terminology, my friend, didn't you ever pay attention in muggle studies?" James replied, sounding amused.

"No, actually I didn't, I was busy wondering why the heck I took the class in the first place."

"Eliza Goodwin, I believe," Lily said conversationally, she was trying single-handedly to try and create a better atmosphere and hardly paying attention.

"Ah, yes," Sirius replied reminiscently, "I think Lils might need some help there, Prongs."

Harry could hardly see the point in this conversation and wondered how they had got from Merlin onto the subject of muggle studies. James looked to see a cross Lily and immediately started helping her, he drew out his wand and muttered something whilst Sirius smirked. Harry watched the very unreal world that he hadn't seen for several hours unravel in front of him; this had all been very interesting the first time but was now starting to get rather dull.

"So, what is happening?" asked Harry somewhat abruptly, he had not quite understood what everything before had meant and wanted an actual answer.

"Actually, Lily what _is_ happening?" James asked, clearly trying not to sound too stupid. Sirius muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "and you told me off not paying attention."

Lily glared at James. Harry raised an eyebrow interestedly.

"Honestly…" she began, before turning to Harry and changing her direction of speech, "I think Merlin is busy at the moment, but he said he's come soon, although I must admit I don't know how soon -"

She was cut off but it took a second before the reason became apparent. Then she smiled broadly, James was also grinning but Sirius looked merely confused, in what had to be an expression mirroring Harry's.

Harry looked at Sirius to try and ask "what the heck?" but when he turned to face him he did not find Sirius.

He was looking at the midriff of someone very, very tall. Harry tilted his head back to be able to see the man's face, he was not as tall as Hagrid but certainly taller than Harry had been expecting. But what had he been expecting? Harry could see the creases in his face that told him that this being was extremely old, but still the eyes shining out were gleaming. He looked somewhat familiar but Harry couldn't place this. He could not bring his eyes away even when he realised how rude he was being. The figures mouth opened and closed, only moments later did Harry make sense of the magically echoed voice.

"Good day, Harry Potter."

* * *

Hmm. Chapter nine…definitely didn't work out the way I'd planned for it to happen, mind you, none of this story has gone according to plan. I think I was going to originally write five chapters and then after about that many I thought perhaps ten, now it looks like it will be more. Well, this is certainly interesting me as much as (I hope) it's interesting you, please review and make my day :P

**NOTE:** I am going to Germany tomorrow (Sunday) on a school trip and I will not be back until Friday (16th), it is unlikely that I'll manage to get to an internet café in that period of time so I'll try and have and get the next chapter up on the sixteenth. I did really want to have written this before HBP, but I guess I can't change the way things have gone. It's quite amazing that as soon as I started writing this fic my school decided to bombard me with exams (that I thought I wasn't going to get) and homework. It is also rather interesting I spend my whole life bored and sad then I start this and I suddenly have a social life. Funny how the world works, eh?

Ok, so, I drifted off subject there so here's a recap. Next chapter will hopefully come the day before HBP, and then after that only Merlin knows how long the next chapter after that will take. You see, incidentally I am on another (family) holiday the day that HBP comes out and for a much longer period of time. If you want to keep updated on the situation, I suggest you view my blog. I'll add it to my biography.


	10. Chapter 10

Premature Exit

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I've just got back from holiday, so I should be able to update frequently again. I hope nobody has lost interest in this fic and deserted me, but I understand. I've never before looked at my story stats and I was very pleasantly surprised and more eager to continue writing. Owls bringing thanks go out to **shadow of the black abyss**, **Lady Arwen of Rivendell**, **hmm**, **sami1010220** and **deranged black kitten of doom**.

"Good day, Harry Potter."

Harry had instantly recognised the figure from the chocolate frog cards that he had collected in his first few years at Hogwarts, but Harry could not remember ever hearing his voice before. The voice was loud and deep and Harry wondered a few seconds where exactly it had come from, Merlin's lips had moved before he said the words. Then, Harry paused, unable to phrase what he needed to say - if Merlin had indeed not reached a decision as to of whether Harry and Sirius were allowed to go he had to find a way to convince him that they had to. He wondered whether Merlin knew of the prophecy and whether he could use it to his advantage, after all, he knew Merlin only cared for the world and would hate to see it crumble under Voldemort's rule of power. But what if Merlin had already chosen for Harry to remain here? He would not be able to stand having to wait for everyone else he knew, and even if he did, he didn't like the thought of anyone he knew well dying when he was unable to do anything. What would happen then? Would he stay in the plane he was in now, forever living in a world of unreal fantasies that never grew old, or would he be made to pass over to the spiritual plane with his parents? Only then would he be properly dead, and that was something Harry could not bring himself to want - only then there would be no hope for him to return. He knew suddenly that he was going to find a way back, with or without help…somehow.

He looked up determinedly to see a bemused looking Merlin smiling at him. Harry tried not to make himself look too hopeful, but something had come alive inside of him and before now he had not really thought of how much he wanted to return to his world, to Hogwarts - maybe even to Privet Drive, just because it was real.

Harry felt Lily gently pat him on the shoulder.

"Er…hi," Harry replied stupidly, feeling that his answer was too late and fearing the worst.

"Lily, James," Merlin said, nodding to each of them in turn, "Sirius."

Sirius did not ask how Merlin knew his name.

"Good day yourself, Merlin," said James with the air of greeting an old friend, "can we get you anything? Lily?"

"If you want to step inside I could make a cup of tea," Lily said, gesturing towards the newly existing home that was behind her. Harry could not help noticing that this house was rather different to the last one, it looked almost like an old manor and Harry expected it to be very spacious. Merlin, however, was hiding a look of confusion none too well.

"Tea?" he asked, there was a note of politeness in his voice, Harry was surprised to see the lined old face of the wizard he'd come to regard as possibly one of the greatest ever have a blank expression.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I always forget - it's that stuff we had last time, remember?" said Lily, smiling slightly. Merlin moved his head to look at Harry, and Harry felt a strange sensation that made him feel extremely uncomfortable. Merlin seemed to realise, because he turned back to Lily and nodded, "yes, yes, I think that would be a great idea."

They walked forwards and Lily opened the door, looking unsure - Harry thought perhaps was arguing with herself over whether or not she should ask Merlin to wipe his feet before coming in. This was perhaps the only thing that she and Aunt Petunia had in common.

Lily pushed the door without another word, and looked delighted when Merlin chose to wipe his feet of his own accord.

"Is this-?" began Sirius, startling Harry, who had been looking around the corridor in great interest. It was furnished in the same way as the other home, but there was something rather grand about everything.

"-Exact replica," James replied, looking fondly around. Sirius was grinning stupidly.

Harry wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about.

"I missed this place," said Sirius, "still got the House Elf?"

"Aye," said James boredly, pointing towards what Harry assumed was the kitchen, "Lily wasn't too pleased to find that she still wanted to serve us after death."

Sirius shook his head and Lily, who then instantly hurried off to make some tea, led them through a door. The room was full of mahogany furniture that looked extremely comfortable. Harry pleasurably sank into a pile of cushions and Merlin did the same beside him.

"Now, Harry," he said, looking at Harry with a razor sharp glare. Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to reply to this and compromised by keeping his mouth tightly shut and nodding slowly. "I expect you realise how near-impossible your aim is."

Harry nodded.

"Wizards have come through the veil to here many a time before, and I have always denied them to go back, but your situation is a little different. Could you possibly explain to me, as well as you remember, what happened at the department of mysteries to when you arrived here?"

Harry opened his mouth and found he had not, as he thought he might have, lost his voice. He began from the dream he had, Kreacher saying that Sirius had gone (at this point Sirius interjected a rude remark about his House-Elf), and then the journey to the Ministry, followed by the strange department of mysteries, the prophecy hall and the arrival of the Death Eaters. Then Sirius explained how Snape (James scowled at the very word) had notified the Order of what was going on and they had come to rescue Harry and his friends. At one interval Lily had levitated a large china teapot and several cups and saucers in and everybody stopped to pour some tea. It had certainly eased the tension a little bit.

Harry gazed into his cup, his story complete, what was to happen now? He looked determinedly into the remnants of the tealeaves as though willing them to give an answer - but there was nothing noticeable.

"Reading your tea leaves?" Merlin asked, Harry was startled and looked up, "it's a very accurate method of foreseeing the future - once done properly and providing you are in the right state of mind."

Sirius let out a very strange noise. Harry didn't know if he should honestly admit his hatred of divination or just nod along. Maybe agreeing would be better - but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I see," said Merlin. He looked almost as dotty as Luna Lovegood for a moment and then his eyes snapped back into focus, he pressed his cup to his lips and took a long drink.

Harry wished he would not keep delaying his final statement, he felt extremely worried, although not quite sure why. Then, very suddenly, the old man beside him spoke again, but the sound did not reach Harry's ears until Merlin's mouth had closed firmly.

"I have reached a verdict, but first, I feel I must show you something - something important," he said, Harry nodded. "As you know, I am a seer - I did not ask to be, or particularly want to be, it was one of the many unfortunate abilities I was born with. I can tell what you are thinking, but divination is not how Sybil Trelawney teaches it - or Firenze, even," he added as an afterthought. Was there nothing going on the material plane that this wizard was not fully aware of? "I see the future, I foretold the truth, I, myself, also made prophecies - but I also see what cannot be, I see what so many others overlook, the impact of your decisions and what effect they will have."

Harry was reminded forcefully of Professor Dumbledore, telling him that decisions were what defined whom a person really was, not natural ability. Professor Dumbledore was at Hogwarts now; he was one of the few people who knew of the prophecy. Did he realise now that all hope was gone, that the one chosen to destroy the Dark Lord had foolishly fallen through a veil without pausing to wonder what it was and why it was there? Was he at the school, aware that nothing could be done, and soon the wizarding world would be a shambles? He was most definitely one to fight Voldemort despite everything. What had happened to the Order? Had they fell, dispirited by the loss of Sirius and himself? Had they continued on - fighting until the end? Harry realised slowly that he would have been notified had someone he known died, and he felt slightly better.

"What do you want to show me?" Harry asked, he felt more confident now. Merlin had a strangled smile on his face.

"What happened, or will happen - if you were to stay here."

Harry didn't know what to say - the statement was absurd, yet he had been expecting something like this.

"But I don't want to stay here - I will find a way out, regardless of what you show me," Harry said, he could not explain the burst of strength inside him. Maybe he had grown faster over his time in this realm than he ever had in his life - perhaps he simply wasn't keen on the idea that he may be having nightmares about what could have been for the rest of his life. If there even was a life to go back to, Harry corrected himself.

"I know," murmured Merlin, but Harry caught it.

"If you know, why do you insist - hang on, what do you mean 'happened'? Nothing could have happened yet, we'd know, wouldn't we?" he replied, suddenly feeling anxious.

"You misunderstand the plane you are in, Harry James Potter," Merlin said quietly. Harry did not think he liked Merlin very much, he always spoke with a strange expression Harry couldn't place, and he was so far continuously leaving Harry wondering what he was really talking about. Merlin clicked his fingers.

"It has happened," he said quietly. He clicked his fingers again. "It has yet to happen."

"What d'you mean?" said Harry simply. He was fed up of being confused; he was a bit annoyed with this whole conversation.

"You learned about time through your experience with Miss Granger's time turner in your third year at school, did you not?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, then. You realise that the present you know is not neccesarily the present, the past could be the present, the future ahead of you could be the present. This plane is illogical to most, but a handy place for anyone who can understand it - it could be used to contact the living, it could be used to tell the future, because the future may have already happened, are you with me?" said Merlin. Harry wanted very dearly to say no, but had now learned that this would result in everything getting more bewildering than it was already.

"It is not seeing at all," he continued, perhaps mistaking Harry's silence as a sign he understood, "it is just understanding."

Harry looked at his parents and Sirius, his parents seemed to have heard this before, Sirius had an unreadable expression on his face. Did they all understand?

"But the best way to understand _is_ to see, and we will delay no longer."

Harry did not have time to open his mouth. He did not have time to admit he wasn't entirely sure of any of this - or maybe even scream in frustration. The world was not turning black as it had done when he had passed through the veil; everything was blurring out until there was nothing. Harry felt overcome by a strange force, and slowly, Harry realised he was alone.

* * *

I'm so glad that I finally got this up. I had an awful day yesterday, had to unpack my things from holiday, skipped lunch because my parents kept nagging me and I didn't want to give them another chance to, my Ipod broke, I tried to fix it for nearly five hours, and also, my favourite character in one of the soaps I watch has died. Not a great day for me, so I'd appreciate it if you left a review. 


	11. Chapter 11

Premature Exit

Chapter 11 

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Hey! It's nice to have such positive reviews after being away for a long time, thank you all very much: **Scruffable15**, **The cobb**, **shadow of the black abyss**, **Bewittching **and** Lady Arwen of Rivendell**. No more delays then, let's get started.

Harry could not recognise everything around him as the light darkened and the world around him transformed to a grand building. It was in complete disarray, large pieces of rubble surrounded his feet, broken glass was scattered all around and there was a silence, a silence that only fitted. The whole atmosphere was eerie. Harry could not help noticing that the place seemed strangely familiar, but he could not honestly remember coming anywhere near somewhere like this his whole life. Parts of the wreck were dispersed about as far as Harry could see; there was an odd element of sadness about everything that Harry could not understand.

It was cold out, very cold, and the same mist that he had encountered before surrounded him, but it felt very different. Harry shivered as a gush of cold breeze passed him, where was it that Merlin had taken him? What was he to find out here? It was likely to be something important, hadn't Merlin defied his words and insisted he was to be brought here? This certainly wasn't some unknown part of the planes. Harry's senses were sharpened again, and there was no dreamlike quality. This was real.

There was a small tap from behind him, Harry did not know what he had expected when he turned around, but he did so nevertheless.

A rock had fallen from the top of a large pile of cracked marble; Harry shook his head and pulled out his wand. He had not needed it for such a long time Harry wondered if it still worked. His instinct was to test it out before he would actually need to use it.

"Lumos," he muttered and the end of his wand lit up - although the sky was darkened it was not yet black enough for this to be very effective. Harry swished his wand almost playfully and was about to turn it off when his wand illuminated something's shadow.

He raised his wand to find the source of the shadow. Then he saw him, a cloaked man half hidden simply by the darkness and strategically hidden behind the mist. Harry doubted he would have noticed if he hadn't seen the shadow, the man was making no noise and not moving even fractionally. For it was a man, Harry was sure, he was tall - his cloak was black and his face hidden by a hood. Something about the figure did not worry Harry, and made him feel slightly better.

The man took a step forward. His steps were precise; he moved the same amount of distance with each one. By the time he had reached him, Harry did not need him to remove his hood, which he had done, for him to recognise Merlin.

Harry felt angry with him. Perhaps this was Merlin's idea of a fun joke? He, Harry, couldn't see the funny side. He felt cold and slightly better and didn't have the slightest idea where he was, providing that he actually was somewhere and that this wasn't a made up world. The ruin of what must have been quite a remarkable building seemed almost depressing rather than funny.

"Harry Potter," murmured Merlin in his low, deep voice. Harry barely grunted in reply.

"I bid you farewell - and good luck."

These words snapped something in Harry's brain. He looked up quickly, now much more attentive.

"Hang on! What d'you mean -?"

But Merlin was fading away just as his parents and Sirius had. He was smiling as he vanished into nothing and left Harry to figure out where he was himself. Alone.

Harry looked around, clinging onto that last strand of hope that he might discover where he was, how to get back, or to see whatever Merlin wanted him to see and be done with it. Maybe Merlin would come back and give him more information if he sat down and went on strike, refusing to find out anything - but Harry quickly realised it was simply too cold to remain immobile. His best hope would be to wander around aimlessly and stumble across something useful.

Harry stood up and brushed flecked dust off his robes, there was one thing for it: he would have to enter the wreckage. It was hardly assuring the whole thing looked like it was going to cave in at any moment and Harry, despite knowing quite a few good spells for tricky situations, knew no spell strong enough to keep a massive stone building from falling in on top of him. He kicked a large rock away from the entrance, Harry supposed this was not the actual entrance, more of a gap made by the cracked walls. He squeezed through and squinted in the darkness for a moment, then held his wand forward to light up the way.

This was fine, he thought to himself as he walked along a lonely corridor; he had done things alone before. He wasn't completely useless - and this was much less worrying than rushing to the Ministry to save Sirius had been. He knew nobody was in danger, apart from possibly Merlin when he came back for Harry. This was almost a night-time stroll around Hogwarts without the risk of being caught by a teacher or Filch. Harry missed Hogwarts, he missed the warmth of the place, his friends, the Gryffindors, Quidditch (although he had spent one memorable afternoon with James teaching him everything he knew) he even missed the lessons. Although the building he was in now must have been about the same capacity as Hogwarts it was stone cold throughout and Harry felt constantly jumpy. The ground had twice moved from under his feet and once Harry swore that he had stumbled over a human bone, not wanting to look at it, he had continued walking with a slightly faster pace.

Then - a voice.

"It'll be here, stop wincing - I'm telling you, it will be here!" A young woman's words. Harry stopped and scrambled forwards so he would be able to hear better - he knew that voice. It had to be…Harry couldn't be sure.

They were getting closer, apparently not caring about the noise they were making. There were definitely two people, and Harry had a very clear idea of who they might be.

"Listen, I know it will be here - but _they will be here_, this is crazy, Hermione."

Harry suspicions were confirmed. Ron and Hermione were walking down the main corridor that this one led on to, but they sounded different. Perhaps Harry had forgotten what his friends' voices sounded like; he wondered if he should come out of hiding and greet them. Would they be surprised to see their friend, if Merlin had indeed brought them to a world where Harry remained in the planes rather than returning home? Harry knew that they certainly would, and wizards that had passed through to another plane never came back - undoubtedly his friends would think he was some kind of fake. That he was someone impersonating Harry Potter.

"They won't be here for ages yet - did you hear something?"

Harry cursed himself silently, he'd chosen the moment when Hermione was speaking to sink further into the shadows in an attempt to not be seen - but had resulted in hitting his foot hard on some object on the floor. He'd winced.

"No," replied Ron.

The footsteps carried on, got louder and then finally started to drift away into the silence again. They had passed him. He had been half hoping that they would not be able to hear or see him as if he was in a memory, but apparently not. He had to be careful, and since Ron and Hermione were the only living people he had seen since coming here he figured he should probably follow them.

Harry listened for the soft tapping of Hermione's feet and the clumsy loud steps that Ron took as they hurried off, when they were so far Harry had to strain to hear them he began to trace their steps. At one point he'd reached a joint and had wondered which way to go - before picking a route and hoping that it was the right one. He could not hear them anymore, this was hopeless - he must have taken a wrong turning.

"Up the stairs," came Hermione's mutter.

Harry froze. He _had_ taken a wrong turning. They were on the floor below him, and about to walk up the stairs to the place where Harry stood quite motionless. Harry stupidly wondered why in all the time he had spent with James and Sirius he had never asked how to become an animagus. The idea had never seemed more appealing, if he could have just transformed himself into a bat right now then this problem would be solved.

"Ron! What are you waiting for?"

"Damn - my foot's stuck, blasted steps-"

Harry looked around in vain for a hiding spot. If he came back the way he came he would have no idea where they were going, if he continued along the draughty corridor he was uncertain as to what lay before him - plus he would possibly be seen.

But either way, if he stayed where he was now he would certainly be seen.

"Honestly, Ron? Must you every time-?"

"It's not my fault! Who put that step there in the first place, anyway? And it's dark in here-"

"Shhh, I can hear something."

She could probably hear Harry's blind panic. He was in the most ridiculous situation, being forced to stalk his friends but unable to let them glimpse him incase they decided he was a dark wizard and cursed him for impersonating Harry Potter.

"Hermione!"

Harry took that moment to bolt forwards; they were within his vision range so Harry had taken the precise moment Hermione had turned to face Ron. He caught the two struggling to get Ron out of a trick step, their wands alert in their hands, as he ran past.

"What was that?"

"No idea."

Harry caught his breath a little further on when he was sure his friends wouldn't be popping around the corner any moment. He was ready to give this a rest; this game of chase was certainly not any fun and all he knew was that Ron and Hermione were searching for something in this building. He didn't even know where he was - they hadn't said, still even now the once beautiful building looked too familiar. Harry did not want to think about what it looked like, the idea was-

"It's just up here."

"I know where it is!"

Harry scuttled out of the way. There was a lot of cracked stone and broken glass here, there was something very large and broken that Harry thought he might just be able to squeeze behind so that Ron and Hermione couldn't see him but he could watch them.

It was harder to get behind than he had thought. As he struggled, two figures rushed forward, both out of breath - evidentially having ran from the steps. They both stopped for a moment; Hermione bent over, wheezing and Ron patted her on the back kindly.

Harry took a moment to register how different their appearances now were. Clearly a good five or six years had passed since he had last seen them, though whilst speaking they had acted just the same. Ron was much taller than Harry remembered, and Harry had already remembered him tall, whilst Hermione was more or less the same height but seemed more fuller and in proportion than Harry remembered her. Ron's long nose was ever prominent as he looked down on Hermione with a still quite recognisable even on his older face, dumb struck expression.

"We need a password," he said slowly, "look," he pointed at the space around them (Harry squirmed in his hiding spot) "they've already tried to get in."

"Password?" asked Hermione in a shrill, unnatural voice. Harry was surprised - she'd so far only spoken calmly. "Can't we just - I don't know - get in?"

"No," said Ron.

And suddenly in became so apparent as to where they were Harry could have whacked his head against the half-demolished wall beside him (but preferred not to incase Ron and Hermione heard him). It was his home. The first place that had ever felt like home for Harry Potter.

Hogwarts. And it was a mess. The place that had homed so many students in Harry's time was not fit for even the most insignificant habitation of life. He had been able to tell somewhere, subconsciously, all along - but had been continuously telling himself that nothing could have happened at Hogwarts. Hogwarts was, after all, the safest place in the world. Especially with Albus Dumbledore as headmaster. What had happened to Dumbledore? He would not have allowed this to happen to the school. Even now, seeing the place he had loved more than anything destroyed, Harry was still partially refusing to believe it. He felt none of the warmth and homeliness of the castle in this cold wreck. Nothing that he felt symbolised a part of the school. It was simply old and ruined.

Why had he not known from the start? He had been in the Hogwarts grounds with Merlin, after all, but then, they had been piled with rubble and huge mounds of earth had been dug up and trees uplifted. Harry had not seen Hagrid's cabin either…what had happened to-

"Let's think…what was the password as you last remember it, Ron?" Hermione asked quietly. Her brown eyes were twinkling sadly in the light of her own wand.

"The time when…" he mumbled off and did not look at her back.

"Yes," she said firmly, "that time. After…after Harry…after it happened."

Hermione did not seem perfectly stable either. Harry felt as though he was intruding upon a private moment of his friends. He wanted very dearly to shout out something - so that they would be alert to the fact he was there, but knew this would not be possible.

He made himself think about what they were saying. They needed a password… but where were they? He had turned off the light at the end of his wand as Ron and Hermione had drawn near, and even now, from his uncomfortable view he doubted he would be able to see where he was. There was need for a different approach. Where would you need a password? Almost everywhere - his first thought was Gryffindor tower, but he knew where he was well enough to say he wasn't near a tower. Harry squinted at what must be the entrance to where his friends were headed, there was a gargoyle, a very chipped - Dumbledore's office! Ron and Hermione must need to visit Dumbledore, but why would Dumbledore be here, surely he would be with the Order at a time like this. There had to be another reason.

"It was something like…something like…"

Sweets, Harry said in his head, the password to Dumbledore's office was always some form of sweet that he had recently taken a liking to, for whatever reason. But how could he communicate this to Ron and Hermione? He tried to think it really hard in a silly hope that they would pick up his thought waves.

"Something like sweets," Ron finished, Harry's jaw fell, he for a moment wondered if he had been able to send thoughts directly to Ron, "yeah, some kind of sweets."

Hermione was not as happy with this information as Harry had expected.

"There must be a thousand different kinds of sweets out there! Not forgetting the muggle ones as well, how are we supposed to know-"

"Chocolate frog, liquorice wand, droobles best blowing gum," Ron started lamely, the gargoyle didn't move for any of these, "Bertie Botts every flavour beans, pumpkin pasties-"

"Pumpkin pasties aren't sweets, Ron," Hermione snapped. Ron gave her an aggravated look.

"You try, then!"

Hermione lips were very thin.

"Ok then - tooth flossing stringmints," she said clearly. The gargoyle moved aside and smashed into a large chunk of something hard and made a loud crack.

"How did you-?"

But Hermione shook her head and the both hurried inside. Harry wanted to follow them, he thought he probably should. If only he had his invisibility cloak, it had proved useful for things like this in the past. Worriedly, Harry followed them, but when he reached the top of the stairs a rather different scene than what he was expecting confronted him.

He'd thought this part of the castle would be just as wrecked as the rest, but Dumbledore's office was just as Harry remembered it. It was neat and oddly immaculate, perhaps nobody had known the password and the headmaster's office had not been destroyed because of this. Whatever it was that Ron and Hermione wanted was in this room, and he saw Ron reaching up for the sword of Godric Gryffindor. The only known relic of Gryffindor's that Harry had pulled out of the sorting hat whilst fighting a basilisk in his first year. Harry did not know why they had bothered so much to find it, but then, there was an awful lot he didn't know about this world.

Hermione was poring over Dumbledore's pensieve, she'd pulled it out from where it had been only partially put away and was looking into it curiously.

Harry crouched down into the corner so that neither Ron nor Hermione would be able to see him, but he could see them perfectly.

"Ron?" Hermione asked uncertainly, "do you think that this-?"

She was indicating the pensieve but had no time to finish her question. There was a loud bang and four tall cloaked figures appeared out of thin air in the room. Harry recognised them instantly as Death Eaters. Death eaters probably intent on killing them outnumbered his best friends, perhaps they were after the same thing Ron had got hold of. He was now brandishing the sword, taking one foolish swipe by what looked to Harry as complete accident.

"That's exactly what we think, too," said a voice from under one of the hoods. Harry did not recognise it; at least he had made a point of avoiding familiarity with Death Eaters.

Hermione's eyes stared at them reproachfully.

"Hand over the pensieve," another said.

Hermione did not move.

"Hand over the pensieve," the second death eater said again.

"You are a foolish mudblood, girl. Do you honestly think that keeping the memory of that prophecy will save anybody? Now hand it over, or we will take it from you."

Hermione had a very strange look on her face as she gently picked up the pensieve and:

CRASH!

She'd dropped it onto the floor, the glass had smashed, and whatever was inside it was fast disappearing. Mist arose from it and swirled all around them.

"No!" cried all four of the death eaters. One extended her long fingered hand from beneath her cloak and was madly trying the catch the vapour-ish substance as it floated away, as though she would be able to put it back in a bowl and everything would be fine.

Hermione smiled as she watched the Death Eaters in desperation, she shot a look at Ron who looked almost proud of her.

"That was your last copy of the prophecy - wasn't it? My, my, your Lord won't be happy with you," she said daringly.

"You won't make a mockery out of us any more!" cried a Death eater who as of yet had not spoken, "_Crucio_!"

But Hermione dodged the badly aimed spell.

Harry had never once been in a situation where there had been Death Eaters and he had not been the one fighting them. He wanted very badly to help Ron and Hermione in the five minutes that followed, spells were fired everywhere. Ron and Hermione were both very good at dodging spells, how had this come to be? Harry could only wonder.

It transpired that these Death Eaters were not particularly gifted wizards, they only seemed to want to fire the killing curse everywhere. One of them killed another and Ron stunned one to leave them with two left.

Harry clutched his wand very tightly - perhaps in the confusion he would be able to hit one of the Death Eaters with a spell on the ankles? It would be something they certainly would not expect, Harry had to keep convincing himself that this was a bad idea and he was not supposed to be here to change whatever was to happen.

He didn't care. He had a very good view of one of the Death Eaters; he was limping slightly from a spell used by Hermione and was now casting spells everywhere in agony.

But Harry couldn't finish the words before:

"HERMIONE!" Ron's strangled yell.

A scream that he would never forget.

A blinding flash of green light.

And the world was blurring away again.

* * *

Hey hey. I give you my awesomely action packed eleventh chapter! This makes you feel better, surely? A longer chapter than usual, a rather exciting fight the death eaters scene. A death. I actually think a death would make this fanfiction a 'T' - well, it's not very graphic or anything. I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing this. It just came straight out, I had no clear idea what I was doing and I wrote it and it kind of flowed, you know? Well, please leave a review, it took me loads of effort to spend my days researching planes and writing this and then editing it whilst it takes you only a few moments to review - and it makes my day ;) 


	12. Chapter 12

**Premature Exit**

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Thank you to reviewers. I hope the explanation in this chapter is understandable and I hope you understand my decision to keep the one ship in this R/Hr because it's going to be canon (actually stated by JK now). I'm just pushing the boundaries of this fanfiction about now and I haven't honestly had any of this planned: it's all just spilled out. So I hope you enjoy it. I plan to wrap it up soon, now. Thank you reviewers of the last chapter: **Lady Arwen of Rivendell**, **Hidden-rose15** and **Harry4ginny**.

Harry watched the scenes around him melt away with the slightest inkling of gratitude - he hadn't wanted to see that and certainly hoped never to witness something quite like that again.

The colour faded and so did the detail until finally Harry was left on a very simple plain white background. Trying to shake away the horrible images he had just seen - he realised that this was what had happened before he was transferred to that reality. He fiddled with his thumbs for a moment whilst waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

Great. Harry thought - so now he was stuck, unable to go one way or another in some place he didn't even want to imagine the complications of where it was. At least before there had been a landscape, somewhere to go, an unclear idea of what to do- now there was nothing. Surely Merlin was playing games with him but he was just making Harry's head hurt more with everywhere he went.

What had Merlin hoped would enlighten Harry in what he had just seen? He would not have described it as a pleasant experience in any plane. What was he supposed to feel? His friend, Hermione was all right for now - none of this had happened yet and as far as Harry was concerned he wouldn't let any of it ever happen. Was this all necessary?

"OK Merlin, this is getting-"

He was cut off by the appearance of the man arriving at the sound of his name. He had the same, peculiar smile on his face.

"Interesting reaction," he said simply.

He gave Harry the impression that he could read minds, and he realised with a start that if he could perform legilimency he probably was. Harry broke eye contact and tried to barricade his mind from the intruder, but nothing else happened.

"What-?" Harry began, but was annoyed to see Merlin's lips move swiftly and find himself cut off again.

"What happened next? What had happened already? Why did it happen and how did it concern you?" He said, ticking off his fingers as he said them.

"You'd know if you listened to the end of a sentence for once!" Harry said irritably, but Merlin didn't seem particularly abashed.

"But those were the things you wanted to ask? Were they not?"

Harry was even more fed up with his company than ever before. He almost wished he'd remained stranded in this eternity of nothingness than this. Resisting the urge to tell Merlin to go away, Harry bit his lip and nodded ferociously.

Merlin dropped the annoying smile and the air of maddening superiority.

"Your friends - Ron and Hermione - were, as you may or may not have gathered, searching for that very same sword that you pulled out of the sorting hat in your second year of magical education."

"I guessed that," Harry said quickly.

"For this you shall have to know the backing story: In the time you just visited you fell through the veil at the department of mysteries and stayed where you were. After spending a year at Hogwarts trying their hardest to research more about the veil after everyone being rescued by Mr Dumbledore and trying to find ways in which you could come back. The two of them were both forced into realising that you had chosen not to return and that they were to move onto other things, for instance, helping the wizarding world against the victorious Voldemort. But there was something he did not understand, could not understand due to never hearing the prophecy fully - it had not been fulfilled as he assumed. Taking that into account, you were not the only one who could destroy him-"

"But I thought-" Harry started.

"Please let me continue. The prophecy was not fulfilled: meaning you were not the only one who could strike the fatal blow to Lord Voldemort after all, others, mere muggles could possibly have the chance. The future was not written out, and nobody knew what the final outcome was going to be. The wizarding world was in uproar, everything had changed - The Dark Lord was back and soon the - quite accurate, I must say - rumours started that it had been prophecised that you were the only one who could kill Voldemort. You can quite imagine the fear - many lost hope, but Mr Albus Dumbledore knew otherwise. You know Mr Dumbledore, do you, Harry?"

Harry nodded - he found his mouth was dry, and he felt unable to speak.

"Yes. Very skilled wizard - knew a lot about Voldemort, even found out things about the boy Tom Riddle whom was Voldemort as a child. He studied the enemy extremely well and reached a well founded conclusion, he rejoiced and summoned Ron and Hermione Weasley-"

"Weasley?" asked Harry weakly.

"Ah, yes - minor detail I missed, they eloped soon after the end of their schooling and returned to join the Order of the Phoenix. Now, Dumbledore knew they were trustworthy, they had been your dearest friends, after all, and they were a capable witch and wizard respectively. He told them what he knew about the prophecy, how he knew it had not been fulfilled and that there was still a chance. Both of them were delighted to try and break Voldemort's immortality before trying to finally defeat him, quest after quest followed. Hermione researched, solved puzzles and Ron did a lot more than provide his usual comedy, too - you see by this time, Dumbledore had died-"

"Dumbledore had-?" Harry was finding it rather difficult to keep up; he'd heard a few words and sprung instantly back to life. "Dumbledore died?"

"Yes, old age possibly - a wound that had sprung from one of Voldemort's more cleverly hidden objects, also possible. They didn't find out, thus, I did neither. But let me go on, them two alone were trusted with the knowledge that the world could still be saved. The Order was falling against Voldemort's new legions of Dark followers, nobody wanted to die prematurely - so they devoted their lives to helping Voldemort instead, and many of the others could easily be made to tell the truth. Ron and Hermione kept it to themselves."

Harry struggled madly to catch up with everything. Ron and Hermione were married and the only two who knew that the world they lived in wasn't completely doomed? Was that an even larger burden than the one that had been placed on him? Or less so because there had been two of them? He had no time to consider.

"Then they set out for another quest, a dangerous quest, right inside Voldemort's new headquarters: the remnants of Hogwarts school. They knew that Voldemort would be after two items of great importance; the pensieve in which the memory of the prophecy had been in, and the sword of Godric Gryffindor that Voldemort wished to use in the same way he had used the diary you destroyed previously. They did not know how long it would take for Voldemort or his Death Eaters to break the password, only that it would happen, and they couldn't let these objects be taken. Thus what you saw tonight, Harry."

Finally, a chance to breathe. This was so much information Harry found himself wishing he had his own pensieve to record this in.

"What then? What happened next?" he asked, although he didn't really want to know the answer.

"Ron died afterwards, he lost his head in battle by the death of his beloved wife," Merlin said bitterly, "the secret of the unfulfilled prophecy died with them both."

Harry felt saddened. Had he caused this by not returning? Or had they just been living on borrowed time - being that if he had returned their souls would have departed for the spiritual plane faster? He could have scarcely begun to imagine the many possibilities before this. He had never realised that without him being killed by Voldemort the prophecy could not be fulfilled. That it would mean that anybody would just be able to defeat him, if done correctly. But the only ones who knew this were dead. Would anyone find out? Could anyone find out? By not returning, maybe the wizarding world would be-

"But it could be rediscovered. Your two friends did leave a trail of things that another could realise and the flame of hope could be re-ignited. Harry Potter, do you still wish to return back to your own plane?"

Harry could not see how changing his answer would be helpful, though he was beginning to see that maybe going back would not be helping anybody. He cursed his own willingness to stay. He had to go back. He would help his friends - they wouldn't be alone this time. He may be the chosen one but there were many different possible outcomes of what could happen. Maybe going back would be better, maybe staying would - but who _really_ knew?

"Yes," said Harry defiantly. He caught a glimpse of something in one of Merlin's eyes.

"Then there is more for you to see," Merlin said. The smile was back. The world was shifting…

This time the colours came back much faster and hurt Harry's eyes underneath his glasses. The sudden return of life around him had made him feel slightly dizzy and he tumbled over, smashing his head against something that looked like a large bookshelf - though he wasn't sure his eyes were functioning properly again yet. The air was crisp again; a familiar icy breeze was rushing in through open windows in the small cottage that he had found himself in. He looked around; the whole place looked like a storm had hit it from the inside. It remained perfectly intact - but everything had been blown around and a broken table lay sadly in the corner of the room. Despite everything, however, a fire was still burning. He was in some living room he was quite sure he had never been to before.

He looked around at his surroundings for any moving - but nothing. Harry sighed in relief and proceeded towards the door. He had not been expecting this again. Was Merlin really having fun playing these games? Did he want to change Harry's mind? Did he really expect this to happen by showing him his best friend's deaths? He swung the door open angrily - well, if he were supposed to see something else he didn't quite fancy being discovered in a room where there was nowhere to hid and no other way to get out. He'd watch from the outside.

He stepped into another room, most probably a kitchen of some sort and immediately stopped when he realised that there was somebody inside of it.

His anger had caused him to be careless, now he was going to be found and possibly arrested for trying to impersonate a dead wizard - he could see himself now kicking and screaming that he was the real Harry Potter whilst being carried off by the Dementors. So this was the climax to Merlin's game: if he did not agree by the end of that last scene he was to be sent to the Dementors?

Harry ducked instinctively as a dirty-blonde head turned around and then turned back again, then muttered something under her (for it was a her) breath that sounded like, "gooblewhistlers, I told them I'd sort them out if they'd wanted."

The voice was familiar. The head was familiar. The sentence - well, who else could it really be but Luna Lovegood? She was possibly the only person who could have overlooked something like that in a strange empty house and expect it to be some creature only she and Quibbler-readers had ever heard of. Harry was glad. He made a mental note that if this were to happen again he would have to ask Merlin for an invisibility cloak because this was getting ridiculous. He was crouched down in a very comfortless position and had no way of moving somewhere without either passing Luna or having to reopen the now closed door back from where he had come from.

There was no way he could move without her noticing him. He once again thought that turning into a bat would have been a great way to get away, or perhaps a beetle - no, not like Rita Skeeter - maybe a fly. Harry looked up at Luna; she was humming to herself happily (which must have been a good thing because it was covering up Harry's quick yelp of pain as he put his hand down on something spiky that he dared not to look at. She was apparently reading through some giant sized textbook; Harry saw several copies of The Quibbler stacked up in the far corner of the kitchen. Was this where Luna lived? Harry could not explain the feeling that told him the answer was no. So what was she doing here?

Luna closed the book unexpectedly and her humming stopped. There was another silence as she stood up from the chair on which she was sitting and appeared to be turning towards the door Harry was in front of, a piece of parchment clutched firmly in her hand. He was going to be discovered…

Then Harry was struck by what seemed to be a momentary brilliance, he seized something - the same thing, incidentally, that had spiked his hand across the kitchen in front of Luna's eyes. As she turned back to see what it was he moved quickly to the stairs on the other side of the room. He hurried as fast as he could on all fours - how being a dog would help now - towards the stairs on the other side of the kitchen. It was a long shot, and all depended on how long Luna was distracted.

"Hmm?" she said confusedly, looking at what Harry had thrown mercilessly past her. "Matlal?" she walked over and picked whatever it was up.

A hedgehog. Luna Lovegood had what must have been a pet hedgehog.

"Did you fly, Matlal?" she asked eagerly, her large protuberant eyes lighting up at the creature in her hands, "and they told me you didn't have any special powers!"

Harry almost wanted to laugh. The years hadn't changed Luna. She had grown taller and her dirty blonde hair was longer, though tied up with some kind of scarf-like material. Luna's clothes consisted of very brightly coloured muggle garments and she must have been wearing two jumpers - Harry didn't blame her, the future was very cold.

She placed the hedgehog down with utmost care.

"I've got to go now," she said to it as though expecting an answer, "but I certainly won't forget this, you could fly in to greet me if you get too-"

Harry made himself comfortable on the stairs and was not pleased at the idea of Luna coming upstairs and making him move again. He had really had enough of this - first with Ron and Hermione and now he was skulking around a weird cottage that Luna Lovegood inhabited. But she was going now - walking into the room in which Harry had first come to, if he wanted to have the faintest idea what she was doing he should probably follow her, but Harry had already had enough close calls for one day. He stayed, perfectly content - though shivering, and slightly bored. Luna wasn't talking to herself in the next room so he hadn't a clue what she was doing - all he knew was when the door swung open again she was followed by two other people.

One was a round faced, yet tall and broad man and the other was a woman shorter than both of them with fiery red hair streaming down her back. So Neville and Ginny had survived. They were both looking slightly ragged and worse for wear and Ginny had a deep cut across one of her freckled cheeks - Neville looked like he hadn't slept for weeks.

"What is it, Luna?" asked Ginny, shaking back her hair, "it hardly soothes the mind when you come calling this early in the morning. I thought I was under attack."

"Yes, tell us why you've forced us to leave our homes in favour of this place," Neville shivered, he then sat down at the table Luna had been sitting at and summoned two chairs from the previous room for Luna and Ginny. "I don't like it here, Ron and Hermione's old place, was it not?"

So this was where he was. And he knew it was sometime after what he had seen before, although that much had been pretty much given due to the fact they each looked much older than Ron and Hermione had been.

"Yes," said Ginny, biting her lip, she turned to Luna, "we won't find anything here - the Death Eaters took everything after it all happened."

"I was looking at this," Luna replied, looking at the book she had been reading fondly - she opened it up, "it was Hermione's, I think. I was trying out my new wonderwattiwatch," she indicated a large chunky watch on her right wrist, "very useful - detects information we need whilst also functioning as a usual watch, you know."

"Yes," Neville urged her on.

"I was thinking about maybe getting them for everybody in the Order, my Dad would have loved them - oh yes, well, it started beeping oddly, you know? And I thought it might be malfunctioning, the enchantment might be wearing off or something, but I opened this and look-"

Luna pointed at something Harry could not hope to be able to read in such a distance. Both Neville and Ginny leaned in closer for a better look. Harry considered waiting until they were all finished and summoning the book for him to look at. He swished his wand longingly and without warning the pile of magazines blew everywhere. Luna didn't even look up, but-

"What was that?" asked Ginny sharply.

"I don't know," said Neville anxiously, looking all around. Harry crept worriedly onto the upstairs landing so that they were unable to see him - though this came at a price: He could only hear them now.

"Gooblewhistler," stated Luna in a pleasant singsong voice, the seriousness in her voice before forgotten.

"Come again?" said Neville.

"It was clearly a gooblewhistler, silly! They live in places like these, you can't see them, but-"

"We were just concerned it was an intruder," said Ginny gently, "wands out, do you reckon?"

"This is rather silly, really," Luna said, but when Harry dared peep through the bars of the stairs again he saw that they all had their wands out.

"Well, we're just taking precautions, you never know who's there these days," said Neville, a note of bitterness in his voice.

This time they had heard him and at any moment would strike if they heard him again. Harry had got to stop accidentally being clumsy - he couldn't help it when he was unsure what to do, rather bored, cold and his head was throbbing. He remembered longingly of the little illusion house that he had shared with his parents and Sirius what seemed like days ago. Did they know what he was doing now? Were they talking with Merlin over tea what he intended Harry to see? Harry only wished he knew, too. Harry wouldn't have minded going back and staying there now, if the alternative was to stand and watch his friends from afar in a very distant reality to what he remembered. There followed a silence. What the three of them were doing Harry didn't dare look - instead, he painted himself an image of the three of them sitting with large cups of magically refilling tea and discussing Quidditch, highly unlikely, but possible. After all, perhaps reality was not always the route one wished to take - he was being made to think that way.

* * *

Well, I was going to add a lot more into this chapter but couldn't find a place to bring it in and the chapter was getting longer and more tedious. I hope this chapter makes sense and isn't a complete waste of time - I did really miss Ron and Hermione and everybody else whilst writing this fic so I had to find a way to bring them in somehow. Good news for me and noone else: I got a new Ipod and we went to visit my Dad's chocolate factory (no joke) the other day. I got loads of free chocolate :P 


	13. Chapter 13

**Premature Exit**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling.

A/N: Hey. You might know I'm writing another story at the same time as this, it's worth a look, and it's a bit more light hearted than this fic: It' called My Happy Ending. Well, anyway, cheers to reviewers **Hidden-Rose15** and **beewitt **(yeah - seriously, we reckon it's the smallest in Britain, though), here's the next chapter:

Chapter 13

Harry wondered what to do, why was he here? What was happening that was so important? It was just a few of his old friends having a midnight party in his other friends' old home. Something was not adding up. Clearly it was a few years after what he had seen before (he couldn't bring himself to call it Hermione's death) and Luna had discovered something interesting. Then again, it was Luna, and perhaps she had found proof of a crumple horned snorckack or something? He could not let himself be seen, but in order to know what was going on he had to at least be able to hear his friends - he was currently too far away. If they saw him, Ginny would probably hex him, Harry thought to himself. Perhaps he was safer where he was…but would Merlin really let any harm come to him?

So what were they doing? Harry tried to think back to his conversation with Merlin. If he hadn't been speaking so damn fast Harry might have got a lot more out of the conversation, and it was a lot of information to handle at any given point. He remembered that Ron and Hermione had got married, Dumbledore had died somehow and nobody knew that the prophecy had been unfulfilled therefore lived believing that the wizarding world would never be saved - lived without hope. Harry thought he had got the general gist, anyway. But Merlin had also said the secret may not have died yet, did he not, for Ron and Hermione had left some sort of trail before they died. What if-

Luna was babbling loudly down below and between every other sentence Harry could hear Neville speaking slowly.

"Shut up, Luna…Neville…you're doing my head in!" said Ginny's voice angrily, "and frankly, I think Luna's right - but this, this is…unbelievable. Did you have any…any leads, Luna."

Harry listened very closely, hoping for the chance they would all decide to speak loudly for no apparent reason - he needed to know if his assumption was correct.

But he couldn't hear Luna's reply.

"Asides from your wonderwhatd'youcallit watch," said Ginny, calmly but with a note of something in her voice that suggested she had had enough and desperately wanted some sleep.

He could not hear Luna's reply again - though he was not entirely sure she had spoken.

"I'm not sure I believe it," said Neville uncertainly, he, on the contrary, sounded wide-awake, "I'm not sure we can believe it, wouldn't they-?"

"No," snapped Ginny, louder than before, "they wouldn't of, and they never did, of course."

"I think that's a rather rash judgement," said Luna dreamily, finally projecting her voice loud enough for Harry to hear.

"That's the truth, I knew them better than anybody…" but Ginny's voice wavered and then Harry could not hear her next words. Deciding that it would be OK to watch them now, since they were obviously distracted, Harry did so.

Ginny's freckled face looked very sad and Neville had put an arm around her, comforting her. Luna was making clucking noises with her tongue. Ginny was mumbling something, but neither Harry, nor, apparently, the other two could understand what she was saying.

"Go home," Neville said to her, Ginny looked up at him.

"But-" she began. Neville looked at her with an expression so firm that Harry would not have expected it from him.

"Luna and I will figure out what this means - I've already got a pretty clear idea, if this isn't all fakes planted by the-"

"It isn't!" sobbed Ginny.

"We'll both see you tomorrow," said Neville calmly, "go."

Ginny nodded and disappeared promptly. Harry was slightly surprised; he couldn't get used to the idea of her apparating.

"She never used to be like that," muttered Neville in a low voice to Luna, who stopped making noises with her tongue and put her head to one side.

"I think she's still upset about everything," said Luna seriously, "I keep telling her that everything will be all right one day, and she tells me it won't be, and then leaves…like that."

"Will it ever be all right though?" asked Neville sadly. Harry got the impression this was meant to be a rhetorical question - but Luna had other ideas. She nodded furiously.

"It will be," she said. Neville smiled at her.

"I've got to go," he said, "can I take this?" He pointed at the large book. Luna nodded again, her earring jingling.

"Bye, then," Neville said.

Luna grinned.

"Bye - Neville, wait!"

"What?"

"Watch out for the dilladillongoes!"

Harry knew exactly where he was, what his friends were discovering and why it was important. Or thought he did. Luna had discovered it - he had no idea what the book was, but felt it probably contained some very vital information on everything Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore had planned for so long. Harry felt very sure that he had just witnessed the moment when his remaining friends had put all the facts together. What was to happen now? The question in his head was answered almost immediately. The image of the stairs in the creaky cottage home was falling away - instead there was a not so new blank atmosphere Harry was coming to associate with Merlin's own realm.

"Good guesswork," said a voice. Harry recognised it and turned around slowly.

"You," he said, not caring to be polite.

"Me," said Merlin amusedly.

Harry took a deep breath. "What happened next?"

The trace of amusement left Merlin's face as he retained the serious look that told Harry something he didn't want to hear was coming.

"Luna Lovegood died," he said. Harry stared at him. "Mr Longbottom and Miss Weasley found her body the following morning - they never found out how she died, but suspected dark magic. Without her, they found that finding information was harder without Luna's uncanny knack to stumble across something accidentally, but eventually, they learned enough to be able to tell the story as well as I have done."

His friends - the people who had stuck by him even when he was wrong, as proved by the ministry scene what seemed far too long ago, were merely being counted off by Merlin's fingers. And he was powerless to stop it, never before had he not been able to try and save their lives. He had, had he not, tried to get them all out after they went to the department of mysteries and found only the Death Eaters - he'd fought them, but only really trying, hoping, to be given a route out.

Well, this was his route out. Not one he had been intending, but a way out of everything. But even if Neville and Ginny did triumph now, could he let all the damage happen in the first place? If he were to go back, and to succeed in destroying Voldemort, none of this would need to happen…hopefully. He could not help feeling that, despite himself, it would be a lot easier to stay where he was and just simply depart to the spiritual plane and wait for his friends there.

He cursed himself in his own head for even considering it.

"And what happened next?" asked Harry, he didn't want to ask all the questions and he definitely didn't _really_ want to know the answers. He'd have been more than content with just hoping everything went all right from the last thing he had seen - but then he knew it hadn't, Luna had died. He knew, in due time, he would have to know the answer to the question.

But Merlin was giving him one of his all-knowing smiles Harry found irritating.

"Why don't you find out?" he said.

And before Harry could yell "NO!" defiantly, he was being whirled off back to the future once more. Harry wanted to believe this would be the last time - but what was he to see? He fell over, feeling dizzy, and then stood back on. He had emerged at a battle field. He could not tell where exactly he was, only that he could not see a building, or a sign of life such as a tree for miles around. He could see, however, several cloaked figures lying sprawled on the dry, dusty ground around him. This was getting sick. If the only way to go on was to pull off the hoods of the corpses of these people then he'd rather avada kedavra himself. He could see nothing else to do. Harry stood, frozen, as he considered his choices.

There was a quiet pop, Harry spun around and worriedly tried to find somewhere he could hide - he'd never managed to get an invisibility cloak from Merlin - never even asked. Harry felt the answer would have been no nevertheless. He hoped beyond hope that whoever it was would not see him, but he could not be lucky again. The damage was done.

He whipped out his wand and waited for something, anything - but the woman, he could tell it was a woman did nothing but stand there. Harry wondered for a split second if she could not see him and all this hiding had been a complete waste of time, but then the woman fell to her knees. Her hood slipped off as she fell, revealing very bright red hair. It must have been this that seemed to lighten up all the surroundings around him, he felt he hadn't seen colour this vivid for a while now.

She was sobbing, and apparently, talking to herself.

"It's official," she muttered, " I've gone mad…people were telling me and I refused to believe them…but now I know - Harry Potter's here…I'm - I'm - please tell me I'm dreaming."

She looked around at the dead bodies around her as though pleading for one of them to wake up and tell her that she was dreaming. Harry felt it would be OK to talk to her - she didn't seem in the right mental state to attack him.

"You're - you're-" his voice crackled, perhaps because he had not been prepared to use it, "not dreaming." He finished lamely.

Ginny turned her head to face him. Her great brown eyes looked at him all over, observing him. Harry thought she looked awful. Her long hair fell limp and greasy over half of her face and there were large dark shadows under her eyes. She looked oddly skeletal; not the young girl he had been so used to seeing happy and full of life. Overall, this didn't suit Ginny Weasley at all.

"You're dead," she told him matter-of-factly, "I'm not seeing you…I'm not!"

She blinked several times as if expecting him to be gone each time she reopened her eyes.

"You are," Harry said, he wasn't ready for this. He found her appearance as strange as she found his - but perhaps she had more of a reason to.

"Dead wizards don't come back," Ginny said, smiling almost insanely, "I should know."

"Ginny," Harry began, trying to think desperately of a way for her to stop believing she was hallucinating, "I-I was transported here. After I fell through the veil - it was strange, everything was strange. Then I got to see the future, come here - but Ginny, what's happened?"

She had no reason to believe the truth but Harry felt that maybe she had.

"I've never hallucinated before - I don't think I've lost my mind…you could be a Death Eater…but I'd know, I'm sure I'd know."

Harry wondered if she was going to give him an answer. Surprisingly, she opened her mouth again and told him almost everything that Merlin had told him. Harry noticed the scar on the side of her face stretched horribly as she spoke. She told him what had happened in the aftermath of his Death. What had happened to herself, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. She told him that they'd escaped Voldemort, but barely - only with Dumbledore's help. She said that she could remember every moment that happened at the ministry, but after was a blur, then when Voldemort and his followers destroyed Hogwarts in her seventh year she joined the Order of the Phoenix. She talked about Ron and Hermione, how they'd been keeping secrets, how they'd died and how Luna, Neville and herself had fitted the broken pieces back together and learned for themselves what had been within the prophecy. How it hadn't been fulfilled, how they'd searched far and wide to destroy his immortality (Harry couldn't quite make sense of her now) and how they'd succeeded. But Voldemort was still here. She didn't know how to finish him off for good.

"Where's Neville?" asked Harry, hoping not to seem to forward.

"Dead," choked Ginny in reply, "just now…"

Her eyes flashed suddenly. "Now it's my turn." Harry didn't understand. "I'm going to die."

But Harry had realised something in a mad stroke of brilliance and was hardly listening.

"Ginny, when is Voldemort going to come?" he asked.

"About now," she replied, "how do you know?"

"It was a guess."

"Good guess," she replied, smiling - but not in the same crazy way she'd smiled earlier. There was something about her old self in that smile.

"I need your wand, Ginny," said Harry suddenly.

Ginny looked at him confusedly. "Why?"

He didn't reply and she swapped her wand for his. She still didn't seem to understand. Maybe her sense of insanity was rubbing off on him, because he couldn't explain why he knew suddenly what to do.

Harry walked over and past the bodies. He lay down himself, still as anything. Maybe Ginny understood now, maybe she didn't, but he wasn't facing her.

Next, he heard an explosion of noise spread over the eerily silent deathbed. He felt the pain in his scar that told him Voldemort was near, but it wasn't as bad as he remembered it - soothed, even. He heard yells. The coldest voice that Harry had ever heard in his life was proclaiming Ginny Weasley to death. It seemed he wanted to have a bit of fun first, though. He heard him say the word _Crucio_ and Ginny's long high-pitched screams and knew the time was right.

He turned around suddenly so he could see the scene and something shot out of his, or rather, Ginny's wand. It was a silvery beam of light. Blinding Harry. Blinding the Death Eaters. He couldn't see…

What was happening?

* * *

Wow…I surprised myself there. I started off with slight writer's block and now it's all fitted together. I hope you understood. These last three chapters weren't planned - they spilled out, but they worked. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Two chapters to the end now, and I won't be delaying it any further. Please review. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Premature Exit**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…I wish I did…

A/N: It's supposedly been revealed that R.A.B is Regulus Arcturus Black by the Harry Potter Lexicon if people don't know already. I'm very interested, myself. Thank you reviewers - **savvysuperstar95**, **hidden-rose15**, **beewitt**, **meowcat00**, **Scruffable15** and **Siarah**.

Chapter 14 

The light coming from his wand was astonishingly bright white - it lit up everything around them and Harry could still see it from under his closed eyelids. Ginny had stopped screaming beside him; the cold voice of Lord Voldemort was saying anything…even the pain in his scar was lessening quite dramatically. He was back to before - only the silence wasn't eerie, quite the opposite…there was an element of warmth in the air Harry felt like he had not felt for a long time.

The light was fading now…Harry rubbed his eyes with his arm before opening them. Ginny was sitting upright, staring at him open-mouthed - she understood perfectly now. The light was reflecting in her brown eyes as she watched the scene in front of her.

And what a scene it was: there were Death Eaters on the ground - not dead, but withering, unable to get back up…Harry wondered why. One figure was still standing, though clearly weakened - Voldemort. He was not standing tall - rather almost curled over; his red eyes were shining out as vividly as Ginny's hair. They looked in pain.

"No!" he choked out - it was quiet but easily audible over the silence. Harry did not know what he was doing, but Ginny was now mouthing something at him. Something he understood to mean 'keep going.' He wasn't sure he wanted to, whatever he was doing was taking a lot of his energy up…his body was aching, his mind struggled to stay awake…the light was fading…

"I will fight this!" cried Voldemort - his voice was becoming stronger again, was he employing his own kind of magic to fight Harry? He fought to keep thinking - how he longed to rest… NO! He couldn't…Harry knew he must continue, whatever he was doing he was doing it well. He only had to keep going for a few more moments. These moments were going to last a lifetime…

That was when he thought about lives…it was this man, if you could even call him that, who had ended so many lives prematurely…this man who killed his parents and the so many before him…this man who denied him a normal life with his parents…this man who had made him believe Sirius had been captured and raced after him…he was ultimately the reason he'd ended up in the strange situation he was in. And even after Harry had fallen through the veil and Voldemort had got what he wanted - it never stopped, it wasn't going to stop - unless he, Harry put an end to it. He was thinking more clearly again, the light was growing stronger. Voldemort was speaking but Harry could not hear him. And what about Ron and Hermione? They'd died at the hands of Voldemort's followers - the Death Eaters. Harry felt a fresh wave of fury - and something else he couldn't describe. There was Luna Lovegood - whose death Harry knew was almost certainly connected to Voldemort…and Neville - he'd been murdered only moments before. The last one of them was Ginny, and she sat beside him - without her this wouldn't be possible, Harry could not of used his own wand to fight Voldemort. And she would live on, her friends dead…her family probably dead as well…It was Voldemort who caused all of this to happen. Nobody else. Tonight would be the night of Lord Voldemort's final downfall.

The light grew brighter and stronger still, but this time Harry could see…he watched the greatest dark wizard he had ever known shrivelling up, this was not pleasant to watch, but he had to know Voldemort was gone. The figure was shrinking, his body deteriorating - falling away in the warm breeze that was blowing around him. Ginny was laughing - it had been a long time since he'd heard her laugh…

And then Voldemort was gone, with no trace of a body left anywhere - perhaps he was not human enough. The light from Ginny's wand faded away gently, but it wasn't dark anymore - the sun was dawning, the air was getting warmer. Everything was, at last, over.

"Harry," said Ginny, she was still grinning, "I don't believe it! We were wrong, all wrong - and now the prophecy has been fulfilled, oh, Harry!"

She got to her feet unsteadily and hugged him tightly. Then she looked at him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Then she faded away, the world around him - everything - was fading, but he did not wish to go this time. He needed to make sure the Death Eaters were put into Azkaban, he needed to make sure that Ginny Weasley would be all right.

He wasn't returning to the severely white plane, though…he was back where he started, the plane of oddities - or whatever it was called. He could see the illusion home that his parents had created for him, Sirius and themselves to stay in whilst they were here. There was grass again, green and fresh - there were the birds that the dog Sirius had chased around happily. Everything was OK.

A hand took him to one side. Harry didn't even realise it was Merlin until he looked up and saw him properly.

"Well done, Harry Potter," he said sincerely. His bright eyes were twinkling and he was smiling in a different way than Harry was used to.

"Sir," Harry began his feeling of elation at being back suddenly vanishing, "what happened to Ginny, what about the Death Eaters? The rest of the wizarding world, were they all OK? And, sir, what did I do? I couldn't-"

Merlin made a motion for him to be quiet and he closed his mouth obediently.

"That was quite a scenario - you have a very able mind, Harry Potter, and a great knowledge of what you have to achieve. I must admit I was watching you very closely - unsure of what you might do. I am proud of you."

"But-"

"Next, to answer your questions in order: Ginny immediately summoned what remained of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters were taken to Azkaban, where I'm sure you agree they belonged. She was convinced she saw you defeat Voldemort, and eventually, the whole world had to admit that something very peculiar had happened. Ginny lived a happy life from then on, she married and had children, finally she had a family again - but I daresay she never forgot you. The wizarding world survived the ordeal, although the so many of the non-magical community knew about magic by the end of the war there was no point in trying to hide it from them any longer - most of the muggles and wizards live peacefully now."

"What did I-?"

"Patience is useful in occurrences like this, Harry. Now - what you did back there, ah, how can I explain it? It was love, the love you held for the people you cared about, the love of the wizarding world - of magic, the love of peace. When so much love is put together like that so perfectly it can combine to create it's own branch of magic, the very essence of magic is within love, you see. The beam of light you used to defeat Lord Voldemort was not magic at all, it was a force much more powerful - it was love."

It was all very confusing, but Harry understood. He wished he had a pensieve to record everything that had happened to him and make not of this conversation. Somewhere, he didn't know how he knew, it would always be imprinted in his mind - ready for him to replay in his mind. That would be good enough.

"So, Mr Potter, you are faced with an important decision."

Harry stopped in mid-thought. _What?_

"I - what?"

Merlin shot a twisted smile at him.

"You saved the wizarding world once already," Merlin said, "if you don't go back, you know that everything will be OK. If you still want to go back, I cannot tell you of your fate."

It was a decision Harry had not thought about much since he had defeated Voldemort, but before then had been the main fixture of his thoughts. If he went back he could not be certain of anything…if he stayed he knew for sure that the world would survive, because he had just made it so. But he had defeated Voldemort once now, and he knew what had to be done - firstly destroy whatever it was that was the key to his immortality and finally, beat him with love. This way, the people he loved who weren't already gone might survive. They _would_ survive, he thought to himself, because Harry would not allow them to die again.

He knew the answer, and there had never really been an alternative.

"I want to go back," he replied.

Merlin's smile extended so it seemed as though the corners of his mouth were touching his ears.

"Good answer," he said. "Now, you have to understand we're doing some tricky messing with time here - everything that has happened since you fell through the veil will have to be, er, rewinded - if you will. It will be three days before we can get you back properly, you will return to the precise moment before you went through. That is the only way."

"But what happens to-?"

"I have briefed your parents so anything you need to know they would know, I will see you here again before you leave. Goodbye."

Before Harry could ask why he was being so hasty - Merlin had disappeared. Maybe he could apparate to another plane…Harry hadn't ever considered that…could you apparate in the planes? He was left to his own very confused thoughts.

He walked through the grass rather than the pathway, barely aware that his feet were taking him to the front door. He remembered everything he had just seen so clearly, he wondered if there was enough room in the rest of his memory for the rest of his life…he was going back. It had taken long enough but now he knew for sure he was going back, but it didn't fill him with excitement. Only uncertainty awaited him in the material plane. He would have to say goodbye to his parents and the dream world he had imagined for so long when he was younger and was to face reality once more. It wasn't really goodbye, he now rightly knew - if he was killed by Voldemort at least he would see them again soon…what a positive outlook.

He wasn't sure whether he should knock on the door or just go in, he waited outside for a moment, thinking, and then pushed the door open to walk back into the life he should've had in the real world, had Voldemort not taken it away from him.

* * *

Back to the short chapters, I'm afraid. I have rehearsals for _Joseph_ (the musical, I'm in the choir) tonight so I don't know when this will get posted, soon, I hope. I don't actually know any of the words to the songs in _Joseph_ (that I'm supposed to have learned by now…xx) mainly due to the fact I'd much rather read and write fanfiction…I'm gonna get murdered by the scary singing woman…so, if I never update again, you can assume I've been murdered. Or not, I'll have the final chapter up soon, though I'm really not looking forward to ending this. Please review. 


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